


Meeting Like This Prompt Fics

by FettsOnTop (GTFF)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fett/Leia, Prompt Fic, prompts from tumblr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2018-05-12 15:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 24,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5670727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GTFF/pseuds/FettsOnTop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From time to time I do prompt fics on my tumblr. This is a collection of short fics I wrote based on those prompts. All of the fics collected here are part of the Meeting Like This Universe. Doing prompt fics always scares me, so comments are appreciated!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always

 

Her hand slides across one shoulder as she passes, her fingertips breaking contact somewhere on the back of his neck. He listens as her footsteps recede into the ‘fresher, and the shower turns on.

He could leave right now. Gather the rest of his clothing and his armor and walk out the door. It’s early yet. The traffic in Coruscant hasn’t quite reached it’s peak. He could be aboard _Slave I_ in an hour.

He imagines her confusion, when she emerges from the shower and finds him gone. She wouldn’t be expecting it. Not after last night. Not after this morning.

Leia is a slow waker, so his success is never guaranteed in the morning. That’s part of what makes it good. And it was good this morning. Only a few minutes ago he was in her bed, lazily watching as she sat up and stretched, exhaling in a long, contented sigh.

She put on a robe and stumbled out into the kitchen to make caf. It took him a minute to find his shorts, but then he abandoned the bed for the ‘fresher and then went to join her.

She took a white cup down from the shelf, filled it with hot caf, and added a splash of rich cream. No sugar. He could get it himself, but she always did it for him. A strange little formality. “How long do you think this next job is going to take?”

“Could be a few weeks.”

“So I might be on Mandalore the next time you’re free.”

“You might.”

“I’ll send you the location data. Just stop by you can.” She finished her own caf. “You’re always welcome.”

Then she drifted off to the shower, and left him alone with the little white cup filled with dark liquid, a swirl of cream on the top.

He would see her while she was on Mandalore. Of course he would. There was no reason not to.

You’re always welcome, she said. It was meaningless. A courtesy, like this cup of caf.

He doesn’t like the word “always.”

Everyone who promises him _always_ breaks that promise in the end. His father. His ex-wife. _Always_ doesn’t really exist.

“I’ll always come back for you.”

“Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.”

“You’re always welcome.”

Until he didn’t, and she couldn’t, and he wouldn’t be.

So. Was it better to end things on his own terms, or to ride it out until the last shuddering breath?

He looked down at the cup of caf, and touched the pristine ceramic surface with one finger. Still hot. She didn’t have to fix it for him. Maybe that wasn’t meaningless.

He picked it up, carefully, and took a sip. It was good caf. And there was no real hurry.


	2. You heard me. Take. It. Off.

It was clear that Leia would have to move out of her apartment on Coruscant. She still needed a place to stay while the Senate was in session, but this one was too small to be practical, now that Jonah was crawling.

Luke, bless him, had taken her busy son for a walk so she could finish cleaning out her closet. Some of it would go back to Mandalore with her, but the bulk of her wardrobe would go into storage until her new apartment was ready.

And in the very back, she found it.

She took it out and laid it out on the bed, gauzy white fabric slipping between her fingers. She traced the simple lines, the loose sleeves, the delicate hood.

It was just a dress.

It just happened to be the dress she put on the day her ship was overtaken by Darth Vader, and a simple choice of what to wear became her only personal possession, her only link to her identity and purpose. She was interrogated in that dress, and she fully expected to die in it.

Instead, by some strange twist of fate, she survived and Alderaan was blown into star dust.

She remembered how relieved she was to finally take it off once she was back on Yavin IV. The fabric was stained and it smelled like sweat and garbage. She scrubbed her skin until it was raw, washed her hair twice. She was alive. She was alive, and Alderaan...

So she had it cleaned and wore it again. And again. And again.

She didn’t recall exactly when she stopped wearing it, but at some point she did. It became something shoved to the back of a container or closet, shuffled from place to place. She wondered if it would still fit, and as soon as the thought crossed her mind she had to try it.

It still fit, but it looked...different. She could see the subtle changes in her body, the little bit of roundness in her belly from carrying Jonah, the more pronounced veins in her neck.  _ She _ was different.

She stood in front of her mirror for a long time, so lost in thought that she barely saw the ‘fresher door open. Her husband emerged, still half-wet from his shower, wearing a towel around his waist and carrying a datapad. “Your lease says you have to leave all appliances as they were found. What the fuck does that mean?”

Speaking of strange twists of fate.

Fett stopped behind her, his eyes giving her reflection a quick once-over. Almost immediately his posture changed, his eyes narrowed and his brow lowered. “Take that off.”

She blinked at him in the mirror. “What?”

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

“Why?”

He tossed the datapad on the bed and took a step towards her, the threat implicit.

“Don’t you dare.” Her fingers fumbled a little on the clasps. “What is  _ wrong _ with you?” She demanded as she stepped out of it.

Fett looked down at the puddle of white fabric, his jaw tight. This was the space where another man might admit he didn’t know, but she wasn’t holding her breath for that one.

“I don’t like it,” he said finally. “It makes you look like a ghost.”

Leia frowned at him. “Because of the color…?”

“No. The way you were looking at it.” His eyes returned to her face, and she would almost swear he was  _ worried _ .

She looked down at the dress, and rubbed her bare arms absently. “I don’t really wear it anymore.”

“Good. Get rid of it. Burn it.”

“I’m pretty sure my lease says no fires.” She smiled when she said it, and saw his posture relax a little. She went to him, her arms around his waist and her head against his chest. His skin was cool and damp under her cheek. “I didn’t think I would, but I’m going to miss this place.” She laughed softly. “Remember the first time you were here? You came out of the shower, just like this, and I felt so guilty for looking at you, after everything you’d been through.”

He was silent for a moment or two before speaking. “I don’t remember much about that night.”

“That’s probably for the best.” She straightened and went to retrieve the clothing she was wearing earlier. “Here’s a brief review. You couldn’t get my clothes off, the sex lasted about four minutes, and I ruined the afterglow by babbling about Darth Vader. It wasn’t a good night for either of us.”

Fett gave a her brief look of amusement and turned back towards the ‘fresher, pausing just long enough to scoop up the white dress from the floor.

She didn’t ask what he intended to do with it. She didn’t need to know. Leia finished dressing and went back to her closet. She still had a lot of work to do.


	3. Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?

“Ah...Boba Fett, isn’t it?” The green protocol droid spread it’s metal arms awkwardly. “I am C2-A4. Welcome to Pollillus. Governor Hillbradon wishes for me to convey how honored we are by your presence and show you to your accommodations.”

“I don’t need accommodations. I’m here to see the governor.”

“I regret that he is unable to see you at this late hour. He and Advisor Ammono will be pleased to meet with you first thing in the morning.”

“Advisor Ammono. That’s the other head?”

“The advisor is the left head, yes, also called the  _ Saprah.  _ The governor would be the right, or  _ Saprin _ . Are you familiar with the Troig species, Sir?”

“So far I know they have two heads and a bad habit of  _ wasting my time _ .”

The droid didn’t take the hint, so Fett allowed himself to be escorted to the guest quarters. The room was cool and quiet, and his scanners picked up no cameras or transmitters. Good enough, he thought, only to change his mind a second later. Apparently the governor’s  _ accommodation  _ included a woman in his bed.

He hated it when new clients tried to impress him.

The woman was sleeping on her side with her back to him, a silk sheet just barely covering her naked body. Fett crossed to the bed in two swift steps and jerked on the sheet. “Get up and get out.”

She jerked upright, instinctively grasping at her covers. “Hey!”

Fett dropped the sheet. “Leia?”

“You’re late,” she said, accusing but a little breathless. Her long hair was loose around her shoulders, and she was clutching the silk cover to her chest in way that would have been very appealing if he weren’t so confused.

“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

His wife dropped her chin and looked up at him. “Maybe I wanted to see you.”

Godsdamnit, she was naked and lying to him. He might be willing to buy it as seduction if it weren’t for that fact that she shouldn’t have known where he was to begin with. “How did you find me?”

“I didn’t,” she admitted with a sigh, combing her fingers through her hair. “It’s a long story.”

He laid his rifle on a nearby table, and worked through the releases for his jetpack. Finally he removed his helmet and sat down in a chair facing the foot of the bed. “Go ahead.”

Leia sat up, tucking the sheet modestly under her arms, her expression earnest. “Several months ago, Advisor Ammono contacted the Senate with a request for mediation. He said a guerilla organization was sabotaging government equipment and extorting the local laborers. I came here with a delegation to negotiate a peaceful solution.”

He could see where this going now. “And of course you did.”

“The guerillas were actually natives engaging in a form of protest against low wages and environmental exploitation, and we were able to work out an agreement. Advisor Ammono and the governor were very pleased, but the governor confessed that he had grown so desperate in recent weeks that he contacted a bounty hunter.” Leia paused and shook her head. “I was honestly a little shocked when he told me what your going rate is. I know we agreed to keep our finances separate, but what the hell do you do with all that money?”

“I have a lot of work related expenses.”

“And what are you going to do when you retire? Buy a planet?”

“Maybe.” He knew she was trying to distract him. “So thanks to your successful negotiations, I’m out of work.”

Leia looked steadily at him.  “I’m not going to apologize for being good at my job.”

“Of course not.”

“The governor was very anxious about offending you, so I offered to smooth things over.”

He looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “He didn’t think that was above and beyond the call of a negotiator?”

His wife rolled her eyes. “I said I would  _ talk _ to you. I implied we’d had some dealings in the past on Mandalore.” Her hand smoothed over the sheet. “And then I snuck in here after everyone else had gone to bed.”

“This is a bad precedent.”

“I know.”

“Our professions are in opposition. If this continues to happen, it could become a problem.”

She tilted her head to one side, her hair falling over one bare shoulder. “Is it a problem now?”

“No.”

Her smile told him that he’d given the right answer. After a second she straightened her face and leaned towards him, her voice soft and serious. “I know you wasted valuable time coming out here, and it’s very important to the governor that there are no hard feelings. I want you to know that no matter how strenuous it gets, I’m prepared to stay here and work this out until you are  _ completely _ satisfied.”

Fett stood up and moved toward the bed. “All right. Let’s  _ talk _ .”


	4. Please don’t do this

The ship was only visible for a moment in the twilight sky, but Leia nearly stopped breathing when she saw it. “Han.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you see that?”

His silence was answer enough.

“It looked like-”

“There’s a million Firespray class ships in the galaxy, Sweetheart.” Han kicked some leaves into a pile and spread his jacket over them. “And even if it is Fett’s ship, we’re out here in the middle of the woods. He’s not  _ that _ good.”

Leia hugged herself, her hands absently rubbing her arms as she searched the sky beyond the treetops. “I wish we were at the base.”

“Believe me, so do I.” Han stretched out on his makeshift bed and patted the space beside him. “We’ll start walking again as soon as it’s light. We could off this rock by midday tomorrow, easy.”

She sighed and joined him. “You really think they’ll have the parts you need for the  _ Falcon _ ?”

“Sure they will. Barsoon Base is an old smuggling haunt.” He yawned and tucked his hand behind his head. “You’ll be amazed at what they have.”

Leia lay her head down on his chest, but she couldn’t relax. The silhouette of that ship wouldn’t leave her mind. The hutts wanted vengeance for Jabba’s death, and the combined bounty might be enough to attract Boba Fett’s interest.

During her time as a prisoner in Jabba’s palace, she had gotten to know Fett pretty well. Maybe “know” was the wrong word. She didn’t know what his favorite food was or the names of his childhood pets, but she could describe in detail what he looked like naked.

They parted ways amicably enough, but that was before Jabba’s death, and before the rebel victory at Endor. She moved on with her life. Maybe she would have been able to put it out of her mind completely if she hadn’t chosen to lie to Han about it.

It was such a small lie, an avoidance laced with a half-truth, but it still kept Fett in the back of her mind.

Han was fast asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily. She lifted her head, just to see if he would stir. When that got no reaction, she eased away from him slowly.

Once she was on her feet, she picked a direction at random and started walking into the woods. If she was right, he would find her easily enough.

It still startled her. She heard a deliberate footstep behind her, and her pulse took off. She spun around, and there he was. Same old, scarred armor and indifferent mask, his rifle aimed at her head. “Looking for someone?”

“Not anymore.” Her voice sounded strangely calm and steady to her own ears.

He raised his rifle, keeping it at his side but letting the muzzle point harmlessly up at the sky. “What do you want?”

“I want to talk to you.” He waited silently, and after a moment she tried again. “Could you-” She gestured at her own face.

There was another pause, and then he leaned his rifle against the trunk of the nearest tree and removed his helmet. His eyes were cool and steady, watching her face. “Well?”

“Please don’t do this,” she said.

He looked away briefly. “You can walk away. I won’t come after you. But Solo is mine.”

She stared at him, not sure whether she should believe him or not. “Why would you let me go? I have a price on my head too.”

“And I have standards.”

“Because of what happened on Tatooine?” Her hands curled into fists at her side. “It didn’t mean anything, Fett. I was using you.”

“I know.”

Deeper in the woods, some sort of animal howled. Fett took a step closer and Leia fought the urge to step back. “Go back to your camp,” he said. “Tell Solo we had this little chat. Or don’t. It doesn’t matter. He’ll never reach Barsoon Base.”

The awful thing was, she believed him. She and Han had only minimal supplies and weapons, and only one place to go. They were easy prey.

So instead of retreating she advanced. This was her only leverage, the knowledge that under his armor, Boba Fett was human. His mind could be changed. She’d done it before. “What would it take?”

He held his place, but she saw the tension in his face. “You couldn’t afford it.”

“Want to bet?” She moved closer still, tilting her head back to look him in the eye. “If you want money, I have money. If you want favor with any system in the galaxy, I can get it. Whatever you want, Fett. Leave now, and I’ll give you-”

He grabbed her and kissed her, which was more or less what she expected, but still left her breathless. Suddenly her back was up against a tree, and his hand was up under her jacket, which she swore was zipped up a second ago.

It was coming back to her, how swiftly he could turn from cold to hot and how  _ efficient _ he could be when he was focused on something he wanted. He pressed his mouth into the skin just below her ear, his teeth just barely grazing her throat and the sound that escaped her that might have been a moan.

No, it was definitely a moan.

“Get away from her!”

His voice broke through the haze, and her blood turned to ice in her veins. Fett abruptly pushed away from her, reaching for the blaster at his side.

“Don’t try it!” Han ordered harshly, his blaster already drawn and aimed straight at the bounty hunter. Fett froze, his hand hovering only inches from his weapon.

“Han!” She searched desperately for the right words, if they even existed. “I can explain-”

He turned his attention to her for a second, just a second, but that was all it took. Fett pulled his blaster and fired, and in the same horrible moment, Han fired as well.

“ _ No! _ ” Leia sat up, her head spinning, and was very confused to find herself on the ground.

“...Leia?” Han was standing nearby, with a canteen in his hand. “Hey. You okay?”

“I-” She looked around, her heart racing. “Is it...is it morning?”

“Close enough.” Han looked up at the treetops, where the sky was just beginning to turn gray. “I was gonna let you sleep a little longer. You sure you’re okay?”

She nodded slowly, brushing the leaves off her pants. He handed the canteen to her, and she drank the water gratefully.

“Well, the sooner we start walking, the sooner we make the base.” He held out his hand, and Leia took it.

“Yes. Absolutely.” Once she was on her feet, she slung the canteen over her shoulder and took one last look around. The forest was ghostly in the pre-dawn light, with deep shadows lurking under the trees. She squared her shoulders and looked resolutely forward. “Let’s go.”


	5. Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!

“No. Watch me again.”

Fett walked forward slowly, his bare feet silent on the wooden floor. He could be just as quiet in shoes or boots, but it was better to start with bare feet, to develop an awareness of what a silent step should feel like. He remembered practicing in the long, cool corridors of the Kamino cloning facility, watching Jango’s feet and trying to imitate his movements.

He stopped and turned, indicating with a nod that it was their turn. Jonah went first. He started off strong, but the second he made a mistake his concentration fell apart. Kyd thought about it too much, he moved so slowly he wobbled with every step.

Still, not bad for a couple of six-year olds. “Ready for your mission?”

“Yes!” They remembered to whisper, even though they were grinning and bouncing on their toes with excitement.

“Go get your gloves on.”

The snow had been falling since the previous day, the first big accumulation of Mandalore’s cold season. He opened the door to the balcony and the boys leaned out out eagerly to gather up snow. They each made a snowball the size of a melon, balancing it carefully on their hands.

“Go. Quietly.”

They crept down the hall. Not silently, but quietly. The melting snow dripped down and pattered on the floor. Fett followed them as far as the hall, listening as they passed through his bedroom and into the ‘fresher.

Where their mother was taking a shower.

“Boys, I’m -” Her voice rose higher in pitch. “Jonah, don’t you dare throw that snowba-godsdamnit! Kyd Fett, I swear, if you - Oh seven hells, that’s  _ cold _ . Get  _ out _ !”

Their retreat was far less quiet. They pounded down the hall, shrieking with laughter. “Hide, hide,” Jonah panted and they both dove under the table.

Fett walked calmly back to the kitchen and busied himself making caf. He didn’t look up when Leia emerged from the bedroom wearing a robe and a look of exasperation. “Where did they go?”

“Where did who go?”

There was muffled snickering under the table, which Leia ignored. She put one hand on her hip and stared him down. “I suppose this was  _ your _ idea?”

“Stealth approach training. Practical application is important. I think I’m going to have to work with them on exit strategies though.” He held out a cup of caf, but she didn’t take it.

“Jonah, Kyd, there’s melted snow all over the hallway. Get a towel and clean it up.”

“Oh, man,” Kyd complained, but they both crawled out from under the table. “Are we in trouble?”

“Clean it up,” she repeated.

Finally she accepted the cup and took and long sip as Fett watched the boys scurry off. “Am I in trouble?”

“Oh, yes. No dessert. Early bedtime.”

They drank their caf in silence for a few minutes. In the hall, there was an extended negotiation over who was going to use the red towel. It ended when they figured out that there were two red towels.

“What time are you leaving tomorrow?”

She sighed. “Very early. I have to meet with the subcommittee before the hearing starts. I’d like to say I’ll be back in a week, but I don’t want to promise anything at this point.”

“We’ll be fine.”

“I know you will. It’s just…this happens way too often. You’ve been home for less than forty-eight hours and now I have to leave.”

He moved to one side to check on the boys’ progress, and then returned to Leia, lowering his voice. “I’ll go to bed early if you come with me.”

She arched an eyebrow at him, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

In retrospect, it should have occurred to him that there would be repercussions.

Sometime after the boys went to bed, when he was stretched out face down on their bed, naked and relaxed, Leia went to the kitchen to get a drink.

Or at least, that’s what she  _ said _ she was doing.

He heard her footsteps in the hall. She didn’t need to be quiet, because he was expecting her to return. And he didn’t give a second thought to the cup in her hand.

An unfortunate but effective reminder that there was more than one kind of stealth approach.


	6. Armor

 

**Anonymous asked: If you take prompts, could you please do Leia in Mando armour and Boba not recognising her.**

* * *

 

The Keldabe spaceport was a busy place, but the hustle and bustle was familiar to Boba Fett. Mechanics and cargo loaders moved in and out of the docking bays and pilots loitered at the tapcafes. Passengers coming in from offworld moved in clusters around knots of people waiting to disembark. Many of these people wore Mandalorian armor. Only one, however, was following him.

Twice now he’d glimpsed the same dark blue armor in the 360 display of his helmet. The wearer was short and slender. Well-armed.

He didn’t change course. Anyone who was following him probably knew where he was headed. He connected to _Slave I_ and put the external weapons grid on standby. There was a stack of crates just inside the bay, as soon as he was through the door he turned sharply and crouched behind them.

_Infrared initiated_.

He watched the shadowy heat signature pause in the doorway. It was entirely possible that this being just wanted to talk to him. Once, about fifteen years ago, a young bounty hunter approached him for advice. He wore Mandalorian armor very similar to Fett’s. So similar, in fact, that it had to be intentional.

He was also very persistent, and Fett had reluctantly agreed to give him some advice. As soon as the young man dropped his guard, he punched him in the stomach, hard enough to make him drop to his knees. “Never trust your competition,” Fett told him before he walked away. It was good advice.

What was his name? Kasper or...Kast? Something like that. His focus returned to his stalker, who was moving cautiously towards _Slave I_. A few more feet and they would pass the crates.

_Infrared disabled._

Fett stood. The stalker turned, hand on their blaster, but his was already drawn and aimed. “Stop.”

Two gloved hands raised in a gesture of surrender.

“Why are you following me?”

“I was hoping to catch a ride to Ryloth.”

A woman’s voice, and one that was immediately familiar. “Leia?”

“Boba.”

He lowered his rifle and his wife lowered her hands. “Where did you get that armor?”

“I borrowed it. I thought it might attract less attention.”

“I work alone. You know that.”

“I just need you to get me through check-in. I tried to get a diplomatic pass and was told it would take six months to approve. Once we’re there, you can do your thing and I’ll do mine.”

“And what is ‘your thing?’”

“Intelligence.” She gave no further details, so he assumed asking would be pointless.

“You feel well enough to travel?”

“I think I’ve turned the corner. I’m not saying I’ll be eating a nerf steak every morning for breakfast, but I haven’t thrown up all week.”

“And the boys?”

“With Hira and Corr. They’ve been wanting to visit Trevyn anyway.” She spread her hands. “Are you satisfied? Can we go now?

Fett put his rifle back in its sling. “I can’t take you.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I have a job to do, and I can’t jeopardize it by getting mixed up in some government sting.”

“It’s purely intelligence, and it’s a _very_ good cause.” When he didn’t say anything, she sighed audibly. “I _need_ this, Boba. In a few months I’m going to be fat and tired all the time. I want to do it.”

“Hire a smuggler to get you in and do whatever you want.” He turned towards his ship. It was never in his best interest to stay and argue.

“Wait.” Leia moved quickly, planting herself right in front of him. “Remember last month, the job on Teyr? You were able to capture that jewel thief because of _my_ connections at the embassy.”

“So?”

“So, remember what you said to me when you came home a week early and fifty thousand credits richer?”

He did remember. “My exact words were ‘where’s that vibrating thing you like?’”

She put her hands on her hips. “And when I said I was too nauseous to enjoy such activities, what did you say?”

“I said…I owed you.” He exhaled in irritation. “I meant sex.”

“Well, you should have specified that at the time.” She took a step closer. “You owe me, Fett. Are you a man of your word?”

_Fierfek_.

“Let’s go,” he said, and she stepped aside. He didn’t need to see her face to know that she was smiling. “If you interfere with my work in any way,” he warned as they walked towards _Slave I_. “You will owe me. And I specifically mean a sexual activity. Of my choice.”

“It’s a deal.” She tapped her fingers to the bottom of her helmet and mimed blowing him a kiss.

 


	7. Sofa

 

**Quick idea for a short Fett/Leia story: Leia makes him sleep on the couch over something silly, like not doing the dishes or something.**

* * *

 

Leia had just turned off the comm terminal when she heard voices. She left the alcove that served as her “home office”  in Coruscant and went to the railing that skirted the second floor of the apartment. The late news was playing on the holoprojector in the sitting area and she didn’t remember leaving it on.

A flicker of movement drew her attention to the arched doorway leading into the kitchen and she stilled, thinking about the blaster in the hidden compartment above her desk.

Then her husband walked out of the kitchen carrying a glass of water, and the tension left her spine. “You’re home.”

He glanced up at her before taking a sip. “You’re up late.”

“I have a lot to do before the opening session next week.” She started down the stairs. “And Jonah is sleeping. For now.” 

Many people promised her that her son would finally start sleeping through the night when he turned one, and many people had turned out to be completely wrong.

Fett had left his armor with his ship, as he often did in the core. She crossed the sitting area and stood on her toes to kiss him, holding onto the lapels of his jacket for balance. He put his hand at the small of her back and kept it there, even after the kiss ended.

Leia tilted her head back to look up at him. “Are you watching the news? You never watch the news.”

“I don’t usually find it interesting. Tonight I do.” He set down his glass and turned her around, holding her from behind. He kissed the curve of her neck, his mouth cool from the water, and it tickled a little. 

“Hey,” she squirmed, but didn’t try to move away. “That-” She stopped, catching a familiar name on the news program. 

_ “Coming to to us from Hodabor now is Viceroy D’ishes,” _ the host said as a large Neimoidian in colorful robes appeared. 

_ “I can now officially announce that Commander Lothard of the Glorious Forces of Neimoidia has resigned, effective immediately. Commander Nabod will assume the command, and redouble our efforts to maintain order in the industrial quadrant.” _

Leia was frozen, staring at the projector. “You had something to do with this?”

“Maybe.” He slipped his hand inside of her robe. “Since you’re up-”

She pushed his hand away and turned around to face him. “D’ishes is about three weeks from being violently overthrown. Why would you help him?”

He blinked at her.  “Because he paid me.”

“He’s a scumbag!”

“So is Lothard. One scumbag hitting another is most of my business.”

“But Lothard was a scumbag willing to work with the Republic to broker a peace agreement. And now you made him resign!”

“I didn’t make him resign.”

There was a weighty pause. “Oh gods,” Leia said with disgust. “You killed him and D’ishes is lying to avoid making him into a martyr.”

“I told him he could resign or die. He released a pack of trained spire wolves and tried to escape.” Fett paused. “Do you think Jonah would like a pet? The pups aren’t much bigger than-”

“ _ No _ .” Leia crossed her arms over her chest. “No  _ wolves _ . Honestly, Boba, we talked about Neimoidia last week. I  _ specifically  _ told you that D’ishes had to go. If you had to get involved, why couldn’t you have killed him instead?”

He took a step closer and lowered his face close to hers. “If you want me to kill someone, you have to say so. I don’t work on implication.”

“I don’t  _ want _ you to kill anyone! I want to be able to do my kriffing job without worrying that my husband is going to undo months of work with a single blaster shot.”

“I didn’t shoot him. He fell out of a window.”

“Oh, gods. Stop being so  _ literal _ .” She turned away and pressed her fingers to her temples. “I’m going to bed.” She gave him a final glare over her shoulder. “And don’t you dare follow me.”

His face turned to stone. “Do you want me to leave?”

“I don’t care. Do whatever you want.” She started up the stairs, and he didn’t follow. The last thing she saw before she stormed into her bedroom was Fett sitting on the sofa, watching the news without a hint of emotion.

 

* * *

She woke up when she heard Jonah crying. Leia rolled over and groaned when she saw the chrono. She’d been asleep for less than two hours.  _ Please go back to sleep. Please. Please. Please. _

“Maaaaaaaama…”

Seven hells. She dragged herself up, only to hear the crying stop as soon as she set her feet on the floor beside the bed. She held her breath, waiting.

Silence.

Was he sick?

Oh, godsdamnit. He might actually have gone back to sleep, but now she wouldn’t be able to. Leia got out of bed and padded down the hall to check. As she passed the banister she saw the sofa in the sitting area below, the cushions rearranged to accommodate someone who was too tall to stretch out on it. Fett was nowhere to be seen.

The door to Jonah’s room slid open, startling her. Her husband walked quietly out and shut the door behind him. “He kicked off his blankets. I tucked him back in.” 

“Oh.”

“You can go back to sleep,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face. He looked as tired as she felt.

Leia hesitated a moment, then held out her hand in invitation.

He took it. They returned to the bedroom together, and Leia flopped back into bed with a grateful sigh. Fett dropped down beside her, his arm around her waist. She closed her eyes. The gods only knew how long Jonah would sleep, but even if was just for an hour or two...it would be worth it. 


	8. Sick

 

**Anonymous asked: Could we get a one shot of Boba taking care of a sick Leia, pretty please?**

* * *

 

The door chimed for the second time, and Fett took a quick look at the hall recorder before opening it. Mon Mothma herself stood there, wrapped in a long hooded robe and accompanied by a single bodyguard. “Boba,” she said with surprise. “What a pleasure to find you in Coruscant.”

“Chancellor.” He stood to one side to let them enter.

“I’m sorry to show up like this, but I need to speak to Leia.”

“She’s sick.”

“I know. Poor thing.” Mon Mothma lowered her hood and turned to look at Jonah and Kyd, who were playing holochess in the sitting area. “Hello, boys.”

“Hi,” They echoed, barely looking up. “Make your guy attack the brundel,” Kyd prompted his brother. “I wanna see the spinning move again.”

Fett had attempted to teach them to play, but at five, the more strategic aspects were lost on them. They mostly wanted to see the pieces fight.

“I’m so glad she has someone here to take care of her,” the chancellor continued. “She looked like death when she left yesterday. Unfortunately, something rather urgent has come up, and I need to speak with her in person. Just for a minute or two.”

“No.”

Mon Mothma paused, waiting for an explanation. People did that, when they weren’t used to hearing “no.” 

Fett said nothing further, and after a moment she gave him a wry smile. “Perhaps you could let her decide.”

“She’s asleep.”

“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t a very serious matter.” She turned slightly, as if she was preparing to go around him, and Fett took a step to the side to block her. Her bodyguard tensed, his hand resting on his belt, a gesture that drew the attention of Jonah and Kyd. They both went still, watching their dad.

Mon Mothma gazed coolly at him for a second, then motioned for her guard to stand down. “You’ll have her comm me, won’t you? As soon as she’s awake?”

“I’ll do that.”

The chancellor turned to leave, and then stopped. “She’s going to be very angry with you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“I’m sure not.” She raised her hood and nodded to the guard. “We’ll take our leave. Good afternoon.” 

Fett watched them go, then turned his attention to his sons. “Finish your game. Everything’s all right.” He went up the stairs to the bedroom where Leia was huddled under several blankets, shivering. “Fever’s back,” he said, touching her flushed cheek.

“I threw up again,” she said without opening her eyes. “It burned.”

He checked the waste bin beside the bed. Nothing but some foamy spittle. Her stomach was empty. “You want some water to rinse your mouth?”

“Y-yes.”

He went to the ‘fresher and filled a cup. “Seven hells,” Leia murmured as she took it with a shaking hand. “Did I hear voices out there?”

“Mon Mothma was here. She was concerned.”

She swished and spit into the waste bin, and her head fell back down onto her pillow. “She never makes social calls. That’s…” She trailed off, and her brow furrowed. 

“You need to rest.” Fett picked up an injector from the bedside table. “I’m going to give you a reducer for the fever.”

Leia produced her arm from under the mound of covers. “She didn’t say anything...about any kind of trouble?”

“There’s always trouble.” He gave her the shot and tucked her arm back in the covers. “Go back to sleep. I promise there will still be plenty of problems in the galaxy when you wake up.”

Her eyes closed. “The boys are okay?”

“They’re terrible chess players. Otherwise they’re fine.” He picked up the waste bin and took it to the ‘fresher to empty it. By the time he returned, she was sound asleep. 

****  
  



	9. Shot

**Oh my gosh! Yay!!! I can never find any well written Boba Fett stories!! Could you do a one shot where Leia is nearly shot but Boba takes the hit for her and she gets mad when he's recovering, saying it should have been her.**

* * *

 

There’s no real infirmary aboard  _ Slave I _ . Some storage bins and a crude stretcher in one corner of the cargo bay are about it. Leia helps Fett onto the stretcher, only realizing after his weight has dropped off her shoulder just how heavily he was leaning on her.

It scares her a little. He doesn’t ask for help, he doesn’t seek support. It’s not in his nature. He leans back on the stretcher, and clumsily pulls a bin open with one hand. His other hand is still pressed against his side, over torn clothing and bloody, blistering flesh.

Does he think he can bandage himself? Probably, she realizes. Probably he’s done it before. “Lay back,” Leia orders, pushing him down on the stretcher. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Blue ones are local shots,” he says through gritted teeth. The bin contains a nice neat stack of disposable injectors, the dosage already measured out. She injects him quickly and then opens the next bin. Sterilizing cloths, bacta patches and bandages in a row. Leia shakes her head and tears open a packet of sterilizing wipes.

“Let me see,” she says, touching his hand. He grimaces, but lets her pull his hand away from his side. 

“It’s a graze.”

Her stomach turns over. It’s a graze, but it’s deep. She can smell burnt blood and tissue, a nasty combination, but there’s no sign of damage to his kidney or intestines. It needs to be cleaned well and packed with bacta, and she can do that.

“I knew this was a mistake,” she mutters darkly. “I should never have dragged you into this.”

Fett lets his head fall back and his eyes shut. “If you hadn’t, you would be dead right now.”

“And if he had aimed two inches to the right, you would be.” Her hands clench into fists, but she still can’t stop them from shaking. She’s just so godsdamn  _ furious _ . “I’ve been in dangerous situations before, I don’t need you getting in my way and  _ dying _ just because you forgot you weren’t wearing armor-” Their eyes meet, and suddenly she can’t speak around the lump in her throat. 

He didn’t forget, and they both know it. 

“Promise me,” she says, “that you won’t do that again.”

“No.” He takes the sterilizing cloth out of her hand and presses it down over the wound, air hissing out from between his teeth. “ _ Fierfek _ .”

“Give me that.” When he ignores her, she grabs another shot out of the bin. A red one this time. “Put your  _ kriffing _ hands down or be sedated.”

He looks at her, gauging her seriousness. After a moment, his hands drop to his sides.

 


	10. Father/Daughter

 

**Anonymous asked: So you take open prompts right? Can we have a one shot of Boba doing something like braiding Shysa's hair or something like that? Something silly and sappy?**

* * *

 

“Boba? Would you like to explain to me why our daughter is bald?”

He shut off the welder and removed his protective face mask. Leia stood in the doorway of the workshop, Shysa on her hip.

“She’s not.” He wiped his hand on his pants and ran it over his own short hair in illustration. “I gave her a haircut.”

His wife looked at him steadily for a moment, then turned to their three-year old. “Shysa, what happened to your hair?”

“It got tangle and daddy cut it.” She grinned at him around her thumb and dropped her head to her mother’s shoulder.

Leia raised her eyebrows. “Well?”

“It wasn’t just a tangle. She got a piece of candy stuck in there.”

She looked to their daughter again. Shysa lifted her head, and snuck a glance at Fett. “Daddy gave me candy.”

“Oh  _ really _ .” 

“She skinned her knee. I gave her candy so she would sit still while I cleaned her up.”

Shysa dropped her thumb, and her brows lowered. “I fell off the roof.”

“What?” Leia’s voice rose dangerously in pitch. 

“ _ On _ the roof. She fell  _ on  _ the roof.” Fett gave his daughter an exasperated look. “The vent pipe was malfunctioning and I had to go up and fix it. I rigged up a harness for Shysa and anchored it to the main support. She scraped her knee on the tiles. That’s it.”

At last it seemed Shysa had nothing to say. Leia shook her head and turned to go back to the house. “I was gone for four hours. Four.” As she walked out the door, Shysa peered over her shoulder and gave him one last mischievous smile.

  
  
  



	11. "But she's my wife."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Want a random prompt? Of course you do! Could you use the words "But she's my wife" in a Boba Fett/Leia oneshot?

“Man, I hate these things.” 

Fett looked over at the speaker, a young man with blond hair slicked back, well-dressed. He leaned heavily against the wall as if standing required too much effort. His pale blue eyes gave Fett’s armor a once over. 

“But at least I’m not wearing _that_. What are you, a bodyguard?”

It was a reasonable assumption to make, in a room full of senators and celebrities. “Something like that.”

“ _Kriffing_  hell. But hey, at least you’re getting paid to be here. My dad made me come. Some big networking opportunity or something.”  The young man sighed heavily.

Fett said nothing.

“You know how I pass the time? I rank the women by who I’d fuck first.” He stifled a laugh behind his hand. “You ever do that?”

“No.”

“Why not? It’s fun. Look, there’s the Chancellor. I’d do her, but I’d have to be really drunk first. Or she’d have to be drunk. She’s just got that cold-blooded look, you know?” He nodded as a Pantoran female passed. “She’d be in my top ten for sure. I love Pantorans. They’re so delicate. Now there…there’s a top three. Maybe even my number one.”

Fett knew before he even looked. Leia was standing about ten feet away, deeply engaged in a conversation. The dress she wore was deep crimson, and cut low in the back.

“Sen-a-tor Le-ia Or-gan-a,” the young man said, drawing out the syllables. “I remember seeing her on the news after the Empire fell and it was just-” He spread his fingers, miming an explosion. “Instant boner.”

When Fett didn’t respond, he seemed uncomfortable for the first time. “C’mon, look at her. Tell me you wouldn’t like to take that home.”

Fett shifted towards the young man. “I would.” He kept his voice low and even. “But she’s my wife, so unlike you, I _will_ be taking her home.”

Those pale blue eyes widened, and all of the color drained from his face.

“You’re wondering if you made a mistake,” Fett continued in the same low tone. “But you already know the answer. You should go immediately to the ‘fresher and stay there for the rest of the night. And if I ever see your face again in the same general area as my wife, I’ll hurt you in ways you can’t imagine.” He turned his head, looking down at him through his helmet’s visor. “And then I’ll tell Leia what you said.”

The young man gaped at him for a full four seconds. Then his eyes dropped. “Excuse me,” he mumbled, and stumbled off toward the ‘freshers.


	12. Awkward Teenage Boba

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have to write a one shot of Leia finding old pictures of like, awkward teenage Boba. I don't know how or why they exist/she finds them, but this needs to happen.

“Where did you find that?”

“I was looking for a spare datacube and this was on the last few seconds.”

It’s old security footage from _Slave I_. He cycles through cubes and records over them after a year, but somehow this was missed.

He’s about fifteen, still trying different armor styles, still bad at shaving. He’s sitting at the cockpit, his eyes unfocused, dark circles under them. His eyelids drop shut, and his head slowly falls forward until it’s resting on his chest.

His shoulders are slumped, his breathing even. And then something on the control panel beeps, and he bolts upright, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. There’s a little bit of drool on his chin.

Leia laughs, clearly delighted by this bit of unintentional comedy.

“Is that it?” He asks, thinking of other things he did in the cockpit at fifteen and making a mental note to check the other datacubes.

“That’s it,” she says, swiping her finger across the reader. She watches it again and laughs just as loudly. 

“You can erase it now.”

She brings it back to the beginning again and smirks at him. “Oh, I don’t think so.”


	13. Hurt Leia, Angry Luke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Can we have a one shot of Leia getting hurt and Luke totally reaming Fett out for it?

“I can’t believe you could be this stupid.” Luke said it slowly, every word meant to slice and tear. And it did. He saw the flinch, the tightening of the bounty hunter’s jaw. Coming from Fett, it was equivalent of a snarl. Luke lowered his voice and delivered the final blow. “She could have _died_.”

Cold dark eyes stared back at him. An orderly pushed a cart past them in the narrow hallway of the med center, but her steps were quick, and she didn’t look at either of them. Undoubtedly she could feel the tension that surrounded them. 

“Excuse me.” A Sullustian in physician’s robes approached. “Which of you is Mr. Organa?”

“That’s me,” Fett said immediately, without bothering to correct the surname. “How is she?”

“She will be fine,” the physician said in heavily accented Basic. “Her shoulder will need time to heal, but there is no sign of nerve damage.”

Fett nodded tersely.  “Was there any other…is she still…”

The Sullustian reached out with a comforting pat, which due to his diminutive stature, landed on the bounty hunter’s hip. “The baby appears to be fine. Very strong heartbeat.”

Luke jerked in shock. “What?” He stared incredulously at his brother-in-law as Fett exhaled and rubbed a hand over his face. When he looked up, Luke spread his hands. “Why am I always the last person to know about these things?”

“It’s early. We haven’t even told Jonah and Kyd.” He turned his attention back to the physician. “Can I see her?”

“Yes. She has been asking for you.” He eyed Luke. “Only family are allowed in the patient rooms, sir.”

“I’m her brother,” Luke quickly asserted. The physician looked to Fett for confirmation and there was a split second of hesitation, just long enough for Luke to interject a clear threat of retribution into his glare. The bounty hunter finally nodded his approval. 

“She’ll want to see you.” 


	14. “I don’t know if I should kiss you or slap you.”

“I don’t know if I should kiss you or slap you.”

“Up to you,” he said without blinking.

Leia glared at him. “I know you’re trying to be helpful right now, Boba, but this is not. Helpful.”

He didn’t move from his place between her and the bedroom door. “Your exact words were ‘don’t let me leave this room until I’ve slept.’ And you haven’t slept.”

“I _rested_ , I’m _fine_.”

He shifted his weight and folded his arms over his chest. 

“You need to stop taking everything so literally. I’m going to send a quick transmission and check the latest polls. And then, I promise, I’ll go to sleep.”

One eyebrow raised skeptically.

Leia sighed. “Okay. No polls. No transmissions. Whatever happens happens. I’m just going to get a glass of wine to help me relax.” She took a step to one side in an attempt to duck around him, but he put his arm across the door. “Boba-”

“Go to sleep.”

“I _can’t_.” She covered her face with her hands briefly. “I worked _so_  hard on this resolution. And what if it fails because people don’t trust the daughter of a Sith Lord? It’ll be all my fault.”

“People are stupid. That’s their fault.” He put his hand on her back and she leaned in, resting her forehead against his shoulder.

“I’m so tired.”

“You need sleep.”

She lifted her head and kissed him at his jawline. “I’m just going to sneak out after you fall asleep.”

He turned her around to face the bed and gave her a nudge forward. “You can try.”


	15. “If you really loved me there wouldn’t be a choice.“

Leia inhaled, and took his hand in hers, guiding it towards her cheek. “If you really loved me, there wouldn’t be a choice.”

His knuckles brushed against her skin and trailed down the side of her throat, coming to rest at her pulse. Fett looked at her for a beat before he dropped his eyes. “I don’t know about this.”

She straightened. “Really? I thought you were looking forward to it.”

“I’m not good at…pretending.”

“So when you have to take off your armor and blend into a crowd, what is that?”

“That’s different.”

“No, it’s not,” Leia insisted. She arched her back off the wall, pressing her hips into his. “Look at me. I’m desperate for you. I want you _so bad_. And all you have to say is…”

Fett shifted, and looked down into her eyes. “I can’t betray my system.”

Leia smiled at him. She let her palm fall to his chest and trail downward. “But you will.” She dropped to her knees, and her husband closed his eyes briefly as she started to work on his belt. “For me.”

His fingers tangled loosely in her hair. “That’s true.”

She glanced up at him with amusement. “See? You can do this.” She ran her palms over his thighs and pressed a light kiss over the fly of his pants. “And there are certain…rewards for being open-minded.”


	16. “Something about you makes me want to commit extreme violence.”

The problem is that Fett would do anything for her. That would bother Luke less if it weren’t for the vast overlap between the bounty hunter’s devotion and the terrifying range of his expertise. 

The first time he confronts Leia about it, he wants to be wrong. He expect it. “Tell me this is a coincidence,” he says, but he can feel it, even before she looks up. Her eyes are steady on his. 

“There were thousands of innocent people caught in the middle of this conflict. Now that the Khazan is dead, the provisional government is willing to accept aid from the Republic.”

“So you’re married to an assassin now?”

“Killing him wasn’t Plan A, Luke. Give me a little more credit than that.”

He does. Until the next time, when negotiations are failing. Pirates attack an outpost, and suddenly the people are scared. The Republic gains another system. 

“That was very convenient timing.” He says, and his sister arches a brow at him.

“It was.” This time Fett is in the room, and Luke doesn’t miss the look between them. 

It happens again. And again. A timely death. A timely explosion. A sudden threat. “Don’t you understand how dangerous this is?” He asks Leia. 

“Of course I do. Don’t you think I’ve considered all the consequences?”

He tries to talk to Fett, against his better judgement. “This isn’t right.”

“Would it be ‘right’ if I had a lightsaber in my hand?”

He goes back to his sister, tries a different tactic. “He’s your husband. You have a child together.”

“You say that as if this is any different than what he does usually,” she answers wryly. “And I’m not forcing him to do anything. He wants to help.”

Luke doesn’t doubt that Fett wants to help. Not because of any loyalty to the Republic, but because his skills are his currency. And when it comes to Leia, he will spend them lavishly. 

And that definitely bothers him. 


	17. “How can anyone not be afraid of love?”

There are voices all around him. Mostly _Mando’a_ , with a little Basic mixed in. This is the way Keldabe does Remembrance Day. All around Boba Fett, Mandalorians gather in knots, raise their glasses and say the names of the people they’ve lost. The people they remember.

He stays at the edges of the crowd, watching and listening. This is a tradition his father never practiced, at least not that he ever witnessed. Jango lost his family when he was young, and served during the decline of the Mandalorian military forces. He would have had plenty of names to recite.

Boba Fett has only his father to remember. That’s the way he wants it.

His gaze moves to the center of the clearing, where the largest bonfires are. Leia is easy to spot in her white dress. It feels wrong to be so far away from her. What if she needs him?

As if she ever did.

He still wakes up and checks his comm, looking for her ID. More than once, he’s finished a job and starting entering the coordinates for Coruscant before he remembers he has no reason to go there. He’s been watching a lot of holonews lately. Sometimes she’s in the background of the live senate feed. 

She was woven tighter into his life than he realized. Ripping out those threads will take time. Eventually he’ll return to his old habits and old routines, and she’ll fade into the shadows of the past.

But right now she’s bright and alive in the firelight, and too far away. 

Nearby, a group of Mandalorians starts singing, even though it’s more a chant than a song. At the end of each verse, they stomp the ground and raise their fists in the air. 

Fett moves away from them, following the edge of the clearing to the north. 

When he dies, no one will raise a glass and say his name. That’s the way he wants it. 

Isn’t it?

Two men stagger past him, one leaning heavily on the other. As they pass, one man calls out drunkenly, “How can anyone not be afraid of love?”


	18. “I think I made a mistake.”

It was a mistake, plain and simple. Fett’s return to the core came at an inconvenient time, just minutes before she had to leave for a public appearance. Mon Mothma was announcing a new task force on Sentient Rights, and as co-chair, Leia had to attend. She _had_  to.

And yet, from the moment the bounty hunter walked into her bedroom, something changed in the air around them and time faded into the background. Leia couldn’t say for sure what it was, something in his posture, the purposeful way he moved toward her. Her breath caught in her throat as he dropped to his knees in front of her and removed his helmet.

Taking advantage of the way her skirt wrapped around her legs, he parted the fabric and pressed his mouth into the soft skin on her upper thigh. “Boba,” she managed, trying desperately to ignore the rasp of his unshaven cheek and the heat that immediately filled her belly. He looked up her, his dark eyes challenging and inviting at the same time. 

“I have to go,” she protested, and the bastard actually licked her, high enough that his tongue touched the edge of her underwear. “Oh, for the Force’s sake,” she murmured. She put her hand on his head, but she couldn’t quite summon up the willpower to push him away.

A gloved hand slipped up under her skirt and cupped her ass. “I like this dress.”

“Yes, you’ve made that very clear. Now please get up. I have to be in the Senate press room in twenty minutes.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, and then he deliberately lifted her skirt a little higher and nipped at the skin at her hip. 

“Boba. This is not a negotiation. I can’t be late for this.”

He exhaled against her leg, but his hands dropped and he stood.

Leia turned toward the mirror to finish putting on her jewelry. “I promise, you can take it off of me later.”

“How much later?”

“I don’t know, exactly.” She stretched up and gave him a light kiss, an apology. He stepped forward and pulled her tight against him, and kissed her with a ferocity that threatened to burn any thoughts of senate obligations and press releases to the ground.

And yet somehow through the haze she knew the second his weight shifted, and his hands tightened on her back. If she didn’t stop this he was going for the bed, and once he had the higher ground he was very, _very_  good at keeping it.

A number of depraved possibilities tumbled through her mind but somehow she found the resolve to brace her hands on his armored chest and push. “No.”

Just like that, Fett released her and sat down on the end of the bed. He loosened his gauntlets and started to work off his gloves. “I’ll shower and wait for you.”

If she didn’t know better, she would think he was indifferent. But she did know better. When she turned to face the mirror again she could see him watching her in the reflection, heat still simmering in his gaze.

She did her best, of course. She stood with Mon Mothma at the podium and tried to look like a noble and wholesome person and not someone who had a bounty hunter stashed away in her apartment for carnal purposes. 

She was so distracted by the thought of Fett sitting on her bed and waiting for her, hard and ready, she missed the end of Mon’s statement and someone had to nudge her to remind her that it was time to leave the stage. 

“Leia,” the Chancellor touched her arm as they adjoined into the conference room. “Are you all right? You look flushed, my dear.”

“Oh? No, I’m fine.” The response was automatic, but she regretted it the moment the words left her lips. Why hadn’t she claimed to feel feverish? It wouldn’t even have been a lie.

“I think we’ll have a break for dinner before the debriefing session.”

Oh, _gods_. 


	19. “Don’t call me that.”

Leia woke up suddenly, roused by some noise in the dark. Her first instinct was to look into the cradle beside the bed, but her daughter was sleeping peacefully.

At three months, Shysa was a sounder sleeper than Jonah had ever been. It actually scared her sometimes. Leia put her hand out over the baby’s nose, reassured by the soft puffs of air.

Then she heard it again. It wasn’t in the bedroom. Fett must be back.

She eased out of the bed and pulled her robe around her shoulders. She found her husband in the kitchen, his helmet on the counter next to a glass of water. 

“How was the meeting?” She asked.

He took two tabs of painkillers from the stash in the drawer and washed them down with water.

“That bad?”

“Three and a half hours,” he answered grimly. “And nothing was accomplished.”

“Welcome to the world of committees.”

“Why can’t they meet without me?”

“Trust me, you don’t want them to do that.” She put her hand over his. “You’ll get used to it… _Mand’alor_.”

“Don’t call me that.” He met her eyes. “I’m not Fenn.”

“No, you’re not.” She pulled his hand up and guided it around her waist. “But you are the _Mand’alor_. You need to get comfortable with that.”

He shook his head. Leia stood on her toes and pressed a kiss into his clenched jaw. “Look at me.”

When he complied, she looked up at him with her lips parted, her eyes steady on his. “ _Mand’alor_ ,” she murmured, her hand cupping his cheek. He gave her a wary look. Her palm slipped down over his breastplate and caught at his belt. His eyes dropped, then returned to hers with an unmistakable spark of interest. 

“Come on,” she said, pulling him toward the sofa. “Maybe I can help.”


	20. Concussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Have you ever thought about doing a, like... AU chapter of your AU story where Fett is super nice and sweet and Leia can't figure out what the fuck is wrong with him, but it turns out she's like... Dreaming or sick or poisoned or something? Just, y'know... An idea...

It wasn’t really that unexpected to find him in her apartment. He had the code and used it regularly. What Leia found strange was the fact that he didn’t turn around when she came in. The bounty hunter was standing in front of the large windows in her sitting area, watching the blur of Corsucant traffic as it passed by.

“You could have turned on some lights,” she said, waving her hand over the sensor.

“I can see without them.” Fett was watching her in the reflection of the glass. “I can see you.” He put his hand out, tracing the lines of her silhouette with his fingertips. “You’re so beautiful.”

She froze for a second. There was a bandage on his forehead. “What is that? Are you hurt?”

“I don’t remember how I got here,” he said matter-of-factly. “That’s not good, is it?”

Leia moved toward him to get a better a look. “It probably means you have a concussion. What happened?”

He turned and wrapped his arms around her, resting his cheek on the top of her head. “It doesn’t matter. You’re here.” He pressed his lips into her hair. “You know what I was thinking?”

“I can’t imagine.”

“You live here, and you surround yourself with nice things. Expensive things. And then there’s me. Why am I here?”

He sounded so thoughtful, like he was trying really hard to figure it out. Leia hugged him tighter. “You know why.”

“No, I don’t.” He cupped her cheek and kissed her forehead, and then the tip of her nose. “You’re smarter than me. And you’re more attractive. I can’t stay away from you. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Leia leaned back, trying to get a good look at his eyes. “You need to be seen by someone.”

“I was. Street clinic. Where do you think I got the bandage?”

“You can remember that, but you can’t remember how you got here?”

He smiled teasingly and leaned in for a kiss. “I don’t want to remember anything before you.”

“My gods.” She stepped back, and he frowned at her.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re _flirting_  with me.”

“So?” He reached for her again, but Leia took a few steps back towards the bedroom.

“Come with me,” she said, holding out her hand. He moved forward, and his steps were steady. He was walking and talking, so it should be safe for him to sleep. “I’m going to get you a painkiller and then I think you should lie down.”

He raised one eyebrow. “Sounds like a good time. You should join me.”

“Boba, look at me. You need to sleep.”

He looked at her for a moment, considering. “Can I sleep with my hand up your shirt?”

Now it was her turn to sigh. “Fine. Come on.”


	21. “I’ve been buying the wrong underwear.”

“Come here. I want to show you something.” Leia beckoned to him from her office. “Are the boys asleep?”

“Yes.” He leaned over her chair as she adjusted her projector. “What is it?”

“One of the archivist at the museum sent this to me. Look.” The projection jumped up, a still image of five very fit young men in five different pairs of undershorts. An advertisement of some kind. 

It took him a minute to realize that all of the men had a the same face. A very familiar face. 

Leia went to the next image. A young man with an intricate pattern shaved into his head lounged against a marble wall, wearing nothing but a pair of tight black shorts. Just behind him, a man with striking tattoos modeled a pair of shiny red shorts with a playful grin.

The next image had four of them in a shower room, three with towels wrapped around their waists, admiring the forth man’s sleek blue shorts. The third scene was clearly supposed to be in a military barracks, although it didn’t look like any military barracks Fett had ever seen. Stylized art prints covered the walls, and there was a rug on the floor next to an immaculate pair of trooper boots.

A young man reclined on a bunk in a pair of white shorts, the contrast striking against his tan skin. His hair was a little longer than regulation, it had a little curl to it. His helmet rested on the bunk in front of his chest. Phase I armor. This was early on in the war.

“Apparently there was a whole campaign,” Leia said. “The company went all out, really tried to capitalize on the whole ‘heroes of the republic” thing. Then at the last minute, the GAR refused to let them run the ads.

“Why?”

“My guess? It was too humanizing.” Her tone was grim. “They didn’t want people to think about clones like that.”

Fett straightened, and put his arms around her from behind. “I’ve been buying the wrong underwear.”

Leia put her hand up and touched his cheek. “Yes, you have,” she said with a soft laugh. “But there’s always room for improvement.”


	22. "I didn't mean to kiss you."

His work is dangerous, but so is he. She’s never seen him this seriously wounded, holding his arm to his side, blood soaking through the field dressing. He limps up the ramp into the cargo bay of Slave I, dragging a canvas sack that leaves a bloody smear behind it.

His helmet has a dent in the side.

“What the hell happened to you?”

He drops the sack and leans briefly against the wall for support. The ramp closes, and Slave I’s engines kick up, preparing for flight. He’s not talking to her. He’s talking to his ship. Leia feels a flash of annoyance that briefly supplants her concern.

“Hey.”

He slowly lifts a shaking hand to the back of his helmet. His glove is soaked in blood. “Medkit.”

Leia swiftly grabs it. “Painkiller?”

His helmet comes off. His fingers are clumsy as he tries to remove his armored wristshooter. He’s sweating profusely and there’s blood around his mouth and chin. Whatever hit him hit him hard enough to dent his helmet and drive his lip into his teeth. 

She puts her hands over his. The mechanism is foreign, but she’s always been a quick learner. She bares his arm and injects him. “You should really sit down.”

Instead he continues to remove his armor and weapons, air hissing between his teeth as he peels his suit away from the gash in his side. It’s not bleeding anymore, but it’s a nasty wound, almost as long as Leia’s hand. 

Everything has blood on it, even his undershorts. She pulls it all down his feet and helps him take off his boots. She can see everything now. Every cut and bruise.

Her eyes go back to the bloody sack. She wants to know, but then again she doesn’t.

“Can you make it up to the shower?” She asks, eyeing the ladder doubtfully.

He shakes his head. “There’s a sprayer in the there.” He indicates one of the holding cells.

“For cleaning.”

“I’ve used it before. Turn down the pressure and make sure it’s set to water. The cleaning solution stings like a hell.”

She sighs and follows him and he steps carefully into the cell. After some fiddling with the controls she manages to get clean but tepid water to flow out of the handheld nozzle. 

She reaches up as high as she can and lets the water wash over his head, moving slowly down to the back of his neck, and then to his shoulders. He leans wearily into the spray, his eyes half shut. The painkiller is kicking in.

Her eyes follow the water as it splashes over his chest and stomach, forming streams over his thighs and running down his legs. Pinkish water swirls into the drain at his feet. She hates seeing him like this. She hates knowing this is what he does, what he lives for. Her eyes retrace the path of the water, following sleek lines of muscle and wet skin. Her heart beats a little faster, and she hates that too. 

He’s a hunter. A warrior. A survivor. He’ll never be safe. She’ll never be able to save him from this life. Her hand moves of its own accord and touches his hip. There’s an ugly bruise just starting to color the outside of his left leg.

She turns off the water and lets the nozzle fall as she takes a step forward. Fett looks up, his gaze slightly unfocused. Her hand gently wipes away a trace of blood from his chin, and she stands on her toes to press her mouth to his. When she pulls back, he’s looking down at her with an expression of mild confusion. “Ow.”

“Sorry,” she says, feeling inexplicably out of breath. “I didn’t mean to kiss you, I just…” Her fingers find his, lacing tightly through them. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

There’s a flicker of a smile, as much as his swollen lip will allow. “Me too.”

“Come on,” She pulls on his hand. “You need to rest.”


	23. Who dies first?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: So, who do you imagine dies first, Leia or Boba? And how?

Leia dies first. She dies first because she’s the kind of person who is spends her retirement serving as a diplomat and an advocate for refugees in war zones. She dies first because she’s a goddamn hero who refuses to leave until everyone has been evacuated. She dies at 73.

When her body is returned to Mandalore, the entire system mourns. Her children and grandchildren host a wake that lasts for weeks.

Boba does not attend.

Instead, he packs his up his armor and heads for his ship. Shysa intercepts him in the docking bay. “Take Kano with you,” she says, and her nine year-old son steps forward. 

“I can help, _Ba’buir_. I’m ready.”

“Fine.” He answers with a jerk of his head. “Get on board.” For a moment he looks at his daughter, and she gazes back. “You always had her eyes,” he says finally.

“His next school term starts in two weeks. Have him back by then.”

“I will.”


	24. "My nightmares are usually about losing you."

It always starts the same way, with rain beating against the glass. Why is it always raining? Why is he standing behind a solid sheet of glass? These are the questions that never occur to him when he’s standing there, beating his fists against the barrier, watching her drown.

She’s trapped, and the water climbs higher every second. If he could break the glass, he could save her, but he can’t. It’s impossibly thick. All he can do is watch as she fights, and panics and finally stills. Her long hair floats around her pale and lifeless face.

He grew up surrounded by water. One of his earliest memories was his father grabbing his arm. “Stay away from that edge, Boba! If you fall in, you’ll drown.”

“What’s ‘drown?’”

“Your lungs will fill up with water and you won’t be able to breathe. You’ll die.” His father crouched in front of him. “If you die, you won’t be here with me. I don’t want you to die.”

He still dreams about his father’s death sometimes, but lately most of his nightmares are about losing her. He wakes up in a cold sweat, his hands shaking. And if she’s beside him in bed, he has to touch her. He has to know that her skin is warm and her pulse is steady at her throat.

Leia is a light sleeper. She always stirs, and he can hear her inhale in the dark as she wakes. “Oh.” She puts her arms around him and rubs his back, the same way she soothes their son.

She never asks what he dreams about. Not then, and not in the morning. He’ll fall back asleep with his head on her shoulder, close enough to hear her heart beating.


	25. Dad!Fett

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: One shot of Boba wrestling with the boys or doing something similarly dad-ish?

“Look at the boys,” Pooja laughed. “They’re dueling.”

Leia turned, shading her eyes from the midday sun and followed her cousin’s gaze. Jonah and Kyd had eaten quickly, too interested in exploring the Naboo countryside to focus on the picnic. Now they were play-fighting with sticks, chasing each other back and forth in the tall grass.

“Five is such a busy age,” Ryoo said with a smile as she opened another bottle of wine. A crook of her finger brought a hovertray with five delicate glasses within reach. “I’m so glad you brought them. I remember running through the meadows when I was a child. Padme showed us where to find the wild hibi berries, remember that, Pooja?” Another flick of her fingers, and the tray began to slowly orbit around the blanket they were sitting on.

“I remember eating too many and being very sick.” Pooja took two glasses off the tray and passed one to Luke. “Padme sat up with me all night.”

Leia took a glass as well, pausing to admire the striking golden color of the wine. “Everyone talks about how much she loved her family.”

“She was a wonderful aunt. The very best.” Ryoo paused as the tray returned to her with one glass still unclaimed. “Boba? You don’t want to try the vesseli? It’s a local speciality.”

“No. Thank you.”

Leia took a sip and gave her husband a bemused look. The wine was tart and citrusy, and she thought he might like it, but she wasn’t going to push it. He was here, without his armor, eating a picnic lunch on the lawn of a Naboo villa. Even her brother had laid aside his Jedi robes for the day. It felt like a real family gathering.

She noticed that Luke was still watching the boys, and she turned around again, concerned. They were still playing. Nothing out of the ordinary.  “Luke,” she said, and he dropped his eyes, staring intently into his glass. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Luke muttered without looking up. “It’s just…watch his reflexes.”

Leia didn’t need to see it. Both boys were strong and quick, but Jonah’s _enhanced_ abilities were becoming more and more evident with every passing year. She met Fett’s eyes briefly and took another sip of wine.

“Is everything all right?” Pooja asked. “Leia? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“It’s nothing.” She focused meaningfully on her brother. “ _Nothing_.”  

Luke grimaced and drained his glass. 

Fett picked up a few discarded corks from the wine bottles. “Can I have these?”

“Of course,” Ryoo said, her brows arched.

Fett stood and walked over to the boys. Leia couldn’t hear what he said, but he showed them the corks, and motioned for Kyd to back up. Kyd complied, raising his stick in front of him. Fett tossed one of the corks and Kyd batted it to the side with a quick swipe of his stick.

Jonah bounced impatiently on his toes and Fett gave him the rest of the corks. He picked up a stick and swung slowly and deliberately, demonstrating the full range of motion. He held his stance at the end of the swing, and indicated that his right shoulder and hip were the targets.

Jonah flung a cork, and it bounced off his father’s shoulder. Fett nodded his approval and dropped the stance. He went through the same process again, this time with a forward strike. Kyd let his own stick fall and picked up one of the fallen corks, clearly intrigued by this new game.

“Oh, come _on_ ,” Luke protested. “Do you see what he’s doing?”

“I see a father playing with his sons.” Leia turned her attention back to her cousins. “Tell me more about this place. How often did you come here?”


	26. Sibling Shenanigans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you write some kyd/jonah/shysa shenanigans? Somehow with two older brothers and a younger sister I doubt they're going to be the calmest or quietest of siblings

Jonah Fett stopped dead in his tracks. “This place is amazing.”

“I know. The perfect hideout.” His brother Kyd turned around, taking in their surroundings. From the outside, the building looked like a warehouse or a factory. An old sign identified it as a meat processing facility. The interior was empty, but the not the way an abandoned building might be. It was clean and relatively new. Someone had fixed the outside to make it fit in among the other buildings in the small lakeside town.

Jonah turned his attention to the elevator tucked in one corner of the building. “What do you think is up there?”

“Our sister, I hope.” Kyd moved toward the lift, and the doors opened automatically. Jonah slowly followed his brother in. “Only one option. Top floor.”

“If this doesn’t pan out…we have to tell them.”

Kyd made an aggravated sound in his throat. “You know how they are. Especially about Shysa.”

“This isn’t like the last time. She’s hiding from us.”

“And you think that’s going to make mom and dad worry _less_? She’s got to be in some kind of trouble.”

Jonah nodded and took a deep, steadying breath. “There is someone here. I can sense it.”

“That unregistered ship at the docking bay is exactly the kind of thing she’d go for. Twenty creds says she’s holed up on the top floor with a bedroll, a bag of ration bars and enough ordinance to level this town.”

The lift chimed. Kyd drew his blaster as the doors opened, and then froze. “What the _kriff_?”

Jonah stepped out into a spacious suite, with wide windows that looked out onto the lake. It was tastefully decorated and comfortably furnished, the kind of room he might expect to see in an advertisement for a retreat. A romantic retreat, because it was clearly designed for a couple. 

There were two chaises placed by the window, and two chairs at the table in the gleaming kitchenette. The bed was positioned off to one side, a massive bed with four columns extending to the ceiling and sheer curtains draped around them. 

Jonah was sure that if he walked into the ‘fresher he would find a waterfall shower and a luxurious tub big enough for two. It wasn’t exactly the kind of place he would expect to find his rough-and-tumble sister.

“ _Osik_ ,” Kyd said with a short laugh. “Look at that bed.”

Jonah understood what he meant immediately. The bed was unmade. “I see it.” He deliberately turned his back on the room to address his brother. “We don’t know-”

A punch hit him in the side of the head, much harder and much faster than he was expecting. He stumbled down to one knee and shook the ringing out of his ears. He saw Kyd struggling with a lithe female, a long blond braid hanging down her back. She had her arm locked around his arm, trying to gain control of the blaster. Kyd headbutted her, and her head snapped back, but she didn’t let go.

Jonah came up behind her, but she clearly anticipated this and kicked back with perfect timing, catching him in the stomach. “ _Haar’chak_ ,” he grunted. “Enough of this.” He called a lightsaber to each hand, and the blades shot out, red and blue.

“Stop!” A familiar voice cut through the air, and Jonah paused just in time to see his sister dart out of the ‘fresher and throw her arm around the blond woman, trying to pull her away. “They’re my brothers! Kyd, stop!”

Kyd pushed away, taking a step to the left. The blond woman had his blaster, but she kept it pointed down at the floor. She was young, close to Shysa’s age. Twenty, maybe twenty-one, with thick blond bangs that framed her pale face. Her bottom lip was bleeding a little. She wasn’t breathing heavily, nor did she look frightened.

“Give me that.” Shysa took the blaster from her. “ _Kriff_ , look at your lip. That’s Kyd and that’s Jonah.” She slipped her arm around the woman’s waist. “This is Abi.”

“Hello  Abi,” Jonah said politely, returning his sabers to his belt. “It’s nice to meet you. Would you mind if we had a word with our sister?”

“I want her to stay. This concerns her.”

“I’ll bet it does.” Kyd replied wryly. “Look, all’s fair in love and war, but you have responsibilities. You can’t just run off for six days without telling anyone.”

Shysa gave him a defiant look. “I’m the _Mand’alor_ , I can come and go as I please and I don’t answer to anyone.”

“Right. Run that one past mom and see how it goes.”

“Or dad,” Jonah reminded her. “Do you have any idea how much shit you would be in right now if he knew you were missing?”

Shysa looked away, her expression grim. “About _dad_.” She glanced at Abi, and then took a holoclip out of her pocket and flipped it open.

The projection showed a bounty listing for Abi Nunan of Ryloth, an assassin with the Hisiki order.

“Well, that explains a few things,” Jonah said, rubbing his jaw. Hisiki trained in a number of deadly arts, including hand-to-hand combat. He took the clip from his sister and scrolled down to the price. “ _Kriffin_ ’ hell.” The listing was marked as assigned, and the bounty hunter’s name was included.

Shysa nodded emphatically.

“That’s…problematic.” Jonah admitted as he snapped the clip shut. “But you can’t hide out here forever. How did you even find this place?”

She shrugged. “Mom owns it.”

Kyd took a look around at the room again. “Do we think…ah…dad knows about it?”

“Pretty sure he does.” Shysa reached to her right and touched a panel on the wall, which slid back to reveal a neat stack of spare armor and weapons. “I swear he’s the only one in the galaxy still using that targeting antenna.”

“So you’ve been keeping your assassin girlfriend hidden in our parents’ secret love nest,” Jonah grimaced. “Does this feel _extremely_ awkward to anyone else?”

Abi raised her hand.

Shysa pulled it down and held it. “She’s not just a girlfriend. She’s my wife.”

“Oh, Shy,” Kyd said with exasperation.

“Don’t ‘oh Shy’ me.” She raised her chin and glared at him. “You were a year younger than me when you married Cirvinia.”

“But she wasn’t _wanted_.” He looked at Abi. “Do you know if it’s kill or capture?”

“They want me alive.” Her voice was soft, her gaze unwavering.

“The thing is,” Jonah said apologetically, “our dad’s very serious about contracts.”

“Unless the client lies to him.” Kyd folded his arms over his chest and looked thoughtful. “Remember the Ob’lyo job?”

Shysa’s face lit up, and Jonah quickly interjected. “Do we really want that kind of blood on our hands?”

“What if they’re evil bastards who deserve it?” His sister asked fiercely.

“On a scale of one to ten,” Kyd said reasonably, “how evil are they?”

“No.” Jonah shook his head. “We’re not doing that. Abi is a contract killer, no offense, Abi. If she took the contract and made the kill, these people may be justified in seeking vengeance. If not against her, against her clients.”

“They _are_ my clients,” Abi said, and there was a pause.

“Okay,” Kyd finally said. “Let’s try this again. What is the bounty for?”

“I took a contract. I failed to make the kill.” Abi was still, her face expressionless as she spoke. “The target was next in line for a dynasty, and her relatives wished for their own son to be next in line. My clients told me that her servant brings her out every day into the garden, but the servant is lazy and careless. I hid in the garden. I saw my target. She was only a baby, still unsteady on her feet. She went right past me, close to a small fish pond. I could have pushed her into the water. I could have held her there until she drowned. No one would have known.” Abi stopped talking. Her hands at her sides curled into fists. “In the Hisiki order, we have no past. We have no future. We exist only in this moment of time. We only seek the honor of completing the task before us. I failed.”

“You were given a choice,” Jonah said soberly, “between a path of darkness and path of light. You chose the right path.”

Shysa rubbed her wife’s arm. “He talks like a bantha’s ass because he’s a Jedi, but he’s right.”

Abi looked uncertainly at Shysa, then at Jonah and Kyd. “You have a very strange family.”

“That’s true,” Kyd said. “But we’re your family now too, which is both fortunate and unfortunate for you. Fortunate, because I’ve already thought of at least four ways to fix your little bounty problem. Unfortunate, because now you have to meet our parents…while trying _not_ to think about what they do in this place.”


	27. Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: I was wondering if you think Leia and Boba would have had a pregnancy loss between Jonah and Shysa.

Halfway through her meeting with the Manufacturers Alliance in Keldabe, Leia realized that something was wrong. The pain in her stomach started out like a dull ache, like a pang of gas or indigestion, but it didn’t pass.

As soon as she could excuse herself, she went immediately to the ‘fresher. That’s when she saw the blood.

It was a blur from there. She got to the med center, they hurried through the usual tests. She waited, curled up on a cot, and when the door opened, it was the midwife.

“It looks like you’re having a miscarriage,” she said gently, and everything drowned in white noise for a few seconds.

“I’m-” She started to say pregnant, but she wasn’t. Or she was, but soon she wouldn’t be. It was a dark place, between what was and what would be.

“I don’t think you’re very far along. Do you have any idea when-?”

Leia shook her head. “I get the injections. I always have.”

“So you weren’t trying?”

“No.”

“These things happen.”

“Is it…too late? There’s nothing I can do?”

“I’m sorry.”

They said she could go home, but her seven year-old sons were at home with C-3P0, and her husband wasn’t, so she checked into a hotel instead. She sent a brief message to Fenn Shysa, asking him to keep Jonah and Kyd busy for a day or two. Then she sent a message to Fett, erasing it and rewriting it a dozen times.

Then all she could do was wait.

It was like being in labor and it was nothing like being in labor. The memories had faded a little over time, but they returned to her now. She paced the floor for as long as she could stand to move, and then curled up on the bed with a towel between her legs.

The pain was stronger than the medicine they gave her. She squeezed her eyes shut, and when she opened them she saw Fett removing his helmet.

“What do you want me to do?”

“There’s…” an awful half-sob, half-gasp escaped her. “There’s nothing you can do.”

He got rid of his armor, and laid down on the bed, facing her. His hand was cool on her flushed cheek.

“You might get blood on you,” she warned him.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

It was over by dawn. The midwife came to the hotel to examine her and collect the remains. “The worst is over,” she said, but Leia wasn’t sure she believed her. There was a hole in the world now. It wasn’t there before. 

“You wouldn’t think it would be so hard,” she said. She was wrapped in the hotel’s soft comforter, sitting on the balcony and watching the sun rise over the city. “I didn’t even know.”

Fett didn’t say anything. He sat in the chair beside her, his face unshaven and his eyes bloodshot. 

“If I had known…if it hadn’t been like this…” She turned to look at him. “I think I would have been happy.”

He met her eyes, and after a moment he took her hand and brought it to his lips. “You’ll be happy again. I promise.”


	28. Favorite Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You want a prompt? How about "Fett blatantly denies Shysa is his favorite child even though she's got him wrapped around her tiny finger"?

He could see the nervous tension in her hands. Her fingers flicked restlessly, her gloves preventing her from picking at the skin around her nails. 

Shysa was suited up, her helmet hanging from her belt. Her eyes were on the doorway of the cantina. Outside there were voices, happy shouts of a greeting. A meeting of the clan leaders of Mandalore.

Or so they thought.

She turned back to the bartender. “I’ll have one more.”

“No,” Fett said. “You need to stay sharp.”

The bartender heeded him. After all, he was the _Mand’alor_.

For now.

“You think anyone will challenge?” Shysa asked him. Her hands betrayed her, but her voice was steady. 

“They might.” Fett had already calculated the odds. He and Leia had been over every possible foe and ally. “What do you want me to say?”

His daughter grinned at him. “Tell me I’m your favorite.”

Fett pushed away from the bar. “Put your helmet on. Time to go.”

The door opened. He walked out into the bright sunlight with Shysa, and the yard fell silent. They were told to expect an announcement. 

“I’m resigning,” Fett said. “Effective immediately.”

Then he stepped back, and watched his favorite child step forward. 

“My name is Shysa Fett, and I claim the title of _Mand’alor_.”


	29. Sintas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since I'm apparently a fan of drunk!Fett (and also angsty!Fett), can we get a one shot of him getting plastered and talking about Sintas? Don't care to whom or in what context!

Leia didn’t recognize the man who spoke. She knew from his accent that he was from Concord Dawn, and he was one of the older clan representatives. He took one look at her husband and drawled, “Boba Fett. Last time I saw you, you were on trial for murder.”

There was a distinct skip in the conversation as the other clan leaders tried not to react. Fett returned the man’s gaze without blinking. “And you are?”

“Sik Blayk. Clan Visto. I was on the sentencing council back then. The vote was unanimous for the firing squad. Nothing personal, but you were guilty.”

“Welcome to our home,” Leia intervened. “I’m Senator Leia Organa.”

“Senator. Thank you for having me.”

The man moved on, greeting others before he took a seat at the kitchen table. Leia looked over at her husband, who maintained his usual stoic expression. “How many more of these meetings?” He asked. 

“This week, or ever?”

“This week.”

“Three.”

“Including this one?”

“No.”

He didn’t flinch, but Leia could see how exhausted he was. She wished she could offer some consolation or relief, but this was necessary. They needed as many clan leaders as possible to meet the new _Mand’alor_  and feel comfortable with the transition. There were still lingering rumors about Fenn’s death, and the fact that his successor was married to Mandalore’s galactic senate representative didn’t help. 

That was one of the reasons that she insisted that they hold smaller meetings in their home, instead of larger ones at an office or a conference center. She wanted it to feel friendly and informal. During the last meeting, the loud talking woke up their four-month old daughter, so they carried on with the clan chieftain from Clan Ordo bouncing Shysa on her lap and playing this ‘this little nerfling’ with her toes. 

As everyone gathered at the table, Leia set a fresh pitcher of ale out and was startled when Fett reached for it. He never drank more than a few sips, and now his previously full glass was empty. He refilled it, gave her grim look, and proceeded to drain half the glass in a long swallow. 

Leia raised her eyebrows at him. This is should make things interesting. 

 

* * *

 

By the end of the evening, Fett was as close to drunk as Leia had ever seen him, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Many of the others followed his example, and while nothing useful was discussed, everyone was very…comfortable. 

Sik Blayk was one of the last to leave, and as he rose from the table Fett abruptly leaned toward him. “You’re right,” he said in a low voice, his eyes focused intently on the man’s face. “I was guilty. I killed Lenovar. He raped a woman and she didn’t want to report it.” A pause. “I…didn’t handle it well.”

Blayk stared back him, swaying just slightly. Then he nodded. “ _Mand’alor_.” He stood with some effort, thanked Leia for her hospitality, and made his way to the door. 

When they were all gone, Leia sat down at the table beside her husband. He reached for the pitcher, refilled his glass, and then offered to her. She took a long drink, and then let her spine relax into the back of the chair. 

“Maybe you should drink through more of these,” she said wryly. “I don’t know why you kept turning the conversation toward compression cables, but overall that was one of the better ones.”

He laid his arm on the table and let his head drop down to rest against it. Leia rubbed his back and then her let her own head rest against his shoulder. “I know it’s hard for you to talk about Sin.”

“It’s all so obvious now,” he said without moving. “All the ways I fucked it up. I never understood what she needed. Especially not after Lenovar. I thought she needed me to avenge her. To make him pay. But I was wrong.” He lifted his head and reached for the glass of ale. “She needed me to be there for her. And I wasn’t.”

Leia let him have his last drink before she took the glass from his hand. “You need to go to bed.”

“I need…” He caught her hand, but whatever he was going to say seemed to be lost somewhere along the way. 

“You need to listen to your wife,” she said, drawing him up from the table. “Time to sleep.”


	30. Relationship Quiz

“Why do I have to do this?”

“It’s for fun. Luke sent it to me.” Leia sat up a little in their bed and adjusted the pillows behind her back before she picked up the datapad. “I think he and Dyrk did it.” 

Her husband, stretched out on his stomach beside her, mumbled something under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Maybe if they _were_ doing it they wouldn’t have time for this _osik_.”

“Well, we just did it,” Leia pointed out. “And look, we have plenty of time.”

“We don’t have to be done.” He edged closer and put his hand on her hip. “I can get you off again.”

“Nice try. Now.” Leia cleared her throat. “Number one. What bothers me the most?”

He folded his arms and rested his head on them. “You want me to answer for you?”

“Just give it a try.”

He narrowed his eyes a little, concentrating. “Indifference.” 

“Interesting choice.”

“Is it correct?”

“It’s not really about being _correct_.” She tilted her head to one side. “Do you want to hear what I think your answer would be?”

He shrugged. 

“Disrespect. People who underestimate you. People who waste your time.”

He looked at her for a second or two, then the corner of his mouth pulled up. “You know me well.”

“See? This is _fun_.” She picked up the pad again. “Number two. What won’t I eat?“

“Nothing?”

“If I were to list everything you won’t eat, it would take all night. Number three. How can you tell when I’m lying?’”

“You raise your chin.” He lifted his head, clearly interested in this one. “What’s my answer?”

“I don’t know. You never lie to me.” Leia reached over to briefly touch his cheek and he leaned into her touch. “Number four. When should you leave me alone?”

“When you tell me to.”

“Hmm. Number five. What do I see as my worst quality?”

That one took him a moment. “You think you talk too loudly when you’re excited.”

Leia stared at him. “I do, but I’m sure I’ve never mentioned it.”

“You stop yourself and lower your voice. What about me?”

“Oh, that’s easy. You see yourself as socially inept. Number six, what do _you_  think my worst quality is?”

“Fuck no, I’m not not doing that.”

“Go ahead.” She held up a hand as if swearing an oath. “I promise to let it go.”

“You’re reckless.”

She stuck out her tongue at him. “And you think too much. Number seven. What am I most proud of?”

“The destruction of the second Death Star.”

“Excellent choice.” She studied him seriously for a moment. “I think for you, it’s Jonah. I know you’re proud of all of our children, but with Jonah you did something you thought you couldn’t do.” She paused and took a deep breath before she continued. “Number eight. What am I afraid of?”

“Failure.”

“That’s exactly what I was going to say for you. Nine. What is my fondest childhood memory?”

A frown crossed his face. “Something from Alderaan. Maybe one of the times you snuck out of the palace?”

“I’m sure yours would be something with your dad, but I don’t…” She pressed her lips together briefly. “We don’t talk about our childhoods much, do we? What _is_  your favorite childhood memory?”

“I was sick. Throwing up. Some kind of virus. I was seven or eight. My dad stayed with me, in my bed, all night. Held the pan under my chin, wiped my face, gave me little sips of water so I wouldn’t get dehydrated. I thought I was dying.” He leaned his head against her arm. “What’s yours?”

“I don’t really know if it was really a single moment. When I learned that my parents were part of the Rebellion I wanted to join, and they let me, but…they worried. I overheard my mother saying to my father, ‘what if we’re wrong, and she’s throwing her life away for nothing?’ She was devoted to the rebel cause. That was the only time I ever heard her question it.” Leia looked down at the datapad and sighed. “I don’t know why I thought these answers would be lighter.”

“We’re not light.”

“No, we’re not.” She snuggled down a little further in the bed and rested her head on the top of his. “Here’s a better one. Number ten. What’s my ideal vacation?”

“One that actually exists.”

She laughed. “It has been a while. But your ideal vacation involves staying home.”

“Home has many advantages. Privacy and security, to start with.”

“I’m not saying we have to go on a casino cruise, but maybe a getaway somewhere private. Do you remember the lakeside villas on Tanaab?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe somewhere like that, but with a few more…amenities.”

“It’s a thought.” He looked up at her. “Are we done with the quiz?”

“Two more questions. What are my short term goals?”

“To make me answer pointless questions until I agree to buy a lake house.”

“Ha. _Ha_. Last one. What are my _long_  term goals?”

He was silent for nearly a full minute. “Galactic peace.”

“I like that.” She put down the datapad and threaded her fingers with his. “I think yours is probably to hand off the role of _Mand’alor_  to someone else.”

“I’m going to hold it for Shysa.”

“For how long?”

“As long I have to.”

“What if she changes her mind?”

“She won’t. She’s too much like her mother.” He lifted her their joined hands and kissed the back of hers. 

Her commlink chirped, and she tapped into it from the datapad by her side. “It’s from Luke. It says ‘DO NOT do the kriffing quiz. Dyrk’s mad at me. Help.’”

“Fifty creds says it was number six.”


	31. Lullabye

**Okay so Boba wouldn't be caught DEAD doing something as ridiculous as singing, right? Except that one time Jonah would. Not. Sleep. And dear dad finally had enough, so he pulled out the last trick he had. Also, bonus points if Boba sings something his dad sang to him... Just saying.**

* * *

 

The most amazing thing that Leia has learned from motherhood is that a ten-month old baby can give every appearance of being sound asleep, and yet when their parent makes an attempt to slip from the room, the baby’s head snaps up as if pulled by an invisible string, and that’s when the crying starts.

Again. 

And again. 

Finally she went to her own bed, exhausted and on the verge of tears. “Just let him cry,” she snapped to Fett, who nodded without opening his eyes. 

Surely Jonah will put himself to sleep eventually. 

One hour passes.

And then two. 

He’s still crying. 

Finally she sits up with some desperate hope in mind that if she goes to him now, if she gives him a comforting pat or covers him with the blanket that he has most certainly kicked off, he’ll settle down and go to sleep. 

He has to be tired.

He has to be. 

Fett touches her arm. “I’ll go,” he says, and she doesn’t question it. Her head is already on the pillow, her mind devouring the thought of sleep like someone starved for food or water. 

She doesn’t know long she sleeps, time has been lost in her addled brain, but when she does wake, her husband is still gone from their bed. 

And then she hears it, and her first thought is that Jonah is whimpering, but it’s not a baby’s voice.

She leaves her bed. It’s not a distressed noise, necessarily, it’s just-

Singing. 

Someone is singing in a low, toneless voice. The words are _Mando’a_ , but it’s not difficult to translate. It has the simple cadence of a children’s song. 

_There’s a tree_

_In the woods_

_Cut it down_

_Carve it well_

_Make a spear_

_There’s a rock_

_In the ground_

_Dig it up_

_Forge it well_

_Make a sword_

She can think of only place Fett would have heard a Mandalorian children’s song. His father must have sang it to him. She peeks around the door into Jonah’s room. 

Her husband is sitting on the floor, his back to Jonah’s crib. His eyes are shut. He drags through the words as if he’s just barely awake. She touches his shoulder and his eyes open. There’s a question in them. 

She looks down into the crib. Jonah looks asleep. She shrugs and then holds out her hand to help him up from the floor. 

In the morning she’ll ask him about the song. 

He’ll say he doesn’t remember. 


	32. Back Pain

Someone on fanfiction.net sent me the prompt “back pain,” so I wrote this as a sort of a coda to  _Until Then_.

* * *

“What did they say?” **  
**

“What do you think?” Leia couldn’t quite keep the edge out of her voice, but she tried to keep her volume low. Shysa had fallen asleep an hour ago in their nest of cushions on the living room floor, but Leia had turned off the holomovie and kept working. She spent too much time at a desk lately, and when she was at their apartment on Coruscant, she found she preferred to stretch out on her stomach on the floor with her datapads and recorder close by.

The downside to this position was that she had to twist her neck around to look up at her husband, and a sudden twinge caught between her shoulders and knifed down her spine. “Ow.”

“Back hurt?”

She lowered her head and rubbed the back of her neck furiously. “This is an excellent illustration of why I should only serve one term as Chancellor. I’m too young for backaches.”

Fett dropped silently down beside her, kneeling on the floor. He’d just taken a shower, and the smell of steam and soap lingered around him. “I’m sure they tried to talk you out of it.”

“Well, yes. I would have been insulted if they hadn’t.”

His hand spread over her back and slipped up to the joint between her neck and shoulders, his fingers kneading just a little.

“You don’t have to be nice to me,” she told him. “The deal was one term.”

His fingers kept moving, gentle and persistent. Leia let her head droop, her forehead nearly touching the floor as he rubbed tiny circles into the back of her neck. “Oh. But that is _very_  nice.”

His fingers moved lower, and Leia sighed as he worked his way from one shoulder to the other. “I’m supporting Mallo as my replacement.”

“Smart.”

“She wants Dyrk to run as Vice Chair, but he’s only in his first term and I don’t think he has the right connections.” She arched her back a little as her husband used both hands to press his knuckles along her spine. “It wouldn’t be good for him either. People already see him as her pet.”

“And he wants to stay at the academy with Luke anyway.”

“There’s also that.” She folded her arms and rested her head on them. “I feel a little guilty. I talked the Mandalore system out of two positions of power today.”

“Hm.” Fett continued to rub her lower back. “If only there was some kind of Mandalorian figurehead who could offer you forgiveness.”

“Yes, if only.” She wiggled a little, finding her muscles much more willing to meld to the floor. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. The first morning I wake up and I’m no longer the Chancellor. No longer a Senator. What am I going to do?”

“You could fight me for the title of  _Mand’alor_.”

“As if you’d put up a fight.” He was just rubbing her back now, straight up and down from her neck to her tailbone and it felt wonderful. “It wouldn’t give me enough to do anyway. I’d have to start a war.”

He gave a soft snort of amusement. “You could go out to the academy. Spend some time with the boys. Help your brother train Jedi.”

“But I’m not a Jedi. And let’s face it, I’m also not a teacher.” She inhaled and exhaled in time with his leisurely strokes. “Can you do this every night?”

“If you want me to.” A pause. “You could come hunting with me. Leave Shysa with her brothers for a bit. I’ll keep you busy.”

“I’m not quite ready to turn to mercenary work.”

“You could come anyway and we could just fuck a lot.”

“SHH.” Leia raised her head and glanced anxiously at their daughter before turning her head to glare at him.

Her husband smirked at her. “She’s asleep. If she wasn’t, she would be gagging.”

“That’s probably true.” She laid her head back down on her arms. Shysa had recently developed an extreme allergy to any indication that her parents were intimate. 

“I don’t remember Jonah and Kyd doing that.”

“They certainly weren’t as vocal about it.” His hand returned to the back of her neck, and Leia closed her eyes. “My parents were very affectionate with one another, and I remember being very embarrassed by it when I was that age. I think it’s the shock of realizing that your parents are more than just your parents, they’re people too. Of course, as I got older I realized that it was a good thing, the way they loved one another. Not everyone has that.”

There was a long, easy silence while he rubbed her neck. “You’ll figure it out,” he said finally. “What to do next.”

“What if it’s something you hate?”

“More than politics?”

“It could happen, Boba.”

“Then I’ll hate it. But you’ll be good at it. And I’ll be proud of you.” His hand stilled, warm and solid against her skin. “Just like always.”


	33. Owned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beleghathon reminded me that I left a loose thread in Until Then, which was Luke discovering in Chapter 3 that Leia is still listed as a slave on Tatooine and she doesn't know about it.

After seventeen years of marriage, Boba thought he understood his wife as well as anyone could, but he didn’t understand what was happening now.

It was a feeling he intensely disliked.

It started with a simple weekend trip to the jedi academy, just after the term ended. Shysa was given permission to bunk in the student quarters with her brothers and watch holomovies all night, leaving the adults to entertain themselves.

And it was really Luke’s fault, though Dyrk shared some of the blame for suggesting a  _cu’bikad_  tournament with shots of  _tihaar_. In Boba’s experience,  _cu’bikad_  was a game of skill until you added alcohol, and then become a game of who could remain upright the longest.

Luke was equally hesitant. “You’ve got to stop and revel now and then,  _Cyar’ika_ ,” Dyrk insisted, cupping his husband’s cheeks and kissing his forehead. “Another successful term at the academy, two new students added.  _Jor'adir oyay_. Celebrate life.”

Godsdamn newlyweds.

Boba was the first eliminated after three shots. Luke was eliminated after five. And then somewhere between his fourth and fifth shots, the Jedi started rambling about his childhood on Tatooine. “Maybe we could go there some time,” Leia suggested as she sat down to the final round across from Dyrk. “Just you and me.”

Luke laughed. “You might not want to. I mean, not without your owner. I mean, husband. I mean…Boba.” His face had turned a bright shade of crimson.

“Luke.” His sister gave him a look. “What the  _kriff_ are you talking about?”

The Jedi swallowed, very distinctly not looking at Boba. “Because…he bought you. From Jabba.”

Dyrk looked very intrigued, but Leia waved it off. “That was ages go. I’m sure it’s all null and void by now.”

“Right,” Luke said too loudly, exactly like a drunk person trying to lie.

Leia looked at him for moment longer, then turned in her seat to face Boba. “Isn’t it?”

This was why he didn’t normally drink. Because there were any number of things he could have said, but what he said was “no.”

“Why not?” Leia’s tone was perfectly even, and somehow that made it even worse. It was the stillness before the storm. Dyrk actually scooted his chair back.

“It’s only binding on Tatooine. It didn’t seem necessary.”

She turned back to the  _cu’bikad_  board. “Take care of it, please.”

“…I will.”

Luke was clearly just as stunned by this lack of response, but Dyrk’s concentration was completely  _fekking_ shattered. Leia won the final round easily and then Dyrk made a joke about needing to carry Luke to bed and Luke challenged him to try walking in a straight line first.

They walked back to their guest room in silence, and Leia walked through the door. “Are you coming?” She asked when he failed to follow. She started to remove her cloak, but stopped to look at him. “Boba? Do you feel sick?”

He did, but it had nothing to do with the  _tihaar_  in his stomach. It wasn’t like Leia to ever shy away from a fight. “You’re angry.”

“No. I’m not.” She gave him a puzzled look. “You said you would care of it, and I know you will.”

“You think I should have told you.”

She sighed and tossed her cloak down on the bed. “Come inside, please.”

He slowly followed her into the room and let the door shut behind him.

“Yes, I think you should have told me,” she said, and then she sat on the end of the bed and patted the place beside her. “Do you remember the data backup center on Fognarog that was discovered about ten years ago?

“No?”

“Thousands of records from the Republic were recovered, ones that the Emperor had purged from the main computers. There was a black box data cell. That part was never made public. The data cell contained a number of files taken from Kamino when the cloning program ended. Including the planetary patent for…well, you.”

He sat on the bed beside her, trying to comprehend this. “There’s a patent?”

“Oh yes. It’s only binding on Kamino, but technically, anyone could use the information provided by the patent to go to another cloning facility with a genetic sample and start production all over again.”

“ _Fierfek_.”

“I know.” She looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. “So anyway, I stole it.”

“You…stole it.”

She nodded. “Tucked it into my underwear and walked right out of a classified data bank. I just couldn’t leave it there, and risk it being stolen by someone else, or picked at by archivists. It didn’t seem right.”

Boba rubbed a hand over his face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I know you don’t like to be reminded. And it’s hidden away safely now, so it just didn’t seem…necessary?”

He lifted his head and looked at her with one eyebrow raised.

“Okay, I deserve that.” She flopped back on the bed and looked up at him solemnly. “I could have destroyed it, but I didn’t. It’s a lot of very thorough medical information, if you ever need it.”

“I don’t want it.”

Leia considered that a moment. “Do you trust me to keep it for you?”

Boba exhaled and laid down beside on her. “Yes.”

She put her hand over his. “And that’s why I’m not mad about Tatooine. But I am going to need you to take care of it as soon as possible. I don’t need some  _sleemo_ in the outer rim trying to blackmail me because the chancellor was once a slave.”

He turned his hand beneath hers and laced their fingers tightly. “If it happens, I’ll take care of that too.”

She turned her head and smiled at him. “I know.”


	34. Home Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT: home alone!au where the kiddos have to defend themselves from some dumb but capable robbers while fett and leia are away. like i know fett and leia would never leave their home wo real security but for shits and giggles how would their force sensitive bounty hunter and rebel freedom fighter raised little balls of mischief children behave??

“We have to kill him.” **  
**

It definitely wasn’t the first thing Dengar wanted to hear. Especially not while coming out a haze of unconsciousness with a terrible headache. He was face-down on a duracrete floor that smelled strongly of Gungan oil, and when he tried to move, it became apparent that he was bound with some kind of heavy cord.

He craned his neck, focusing on the speaker. He was only a boy. Maybe eleven or twelve, with bright copper hair. Dengar would never have seen him as a threat if the little monster hadn’t  _fekking_  stabbed him in the hand with a pocket knife.

His hands were bound behind him, he couldn’t see the wound but his palm was sticky, not slick. It must have stopped bleeding. His eyes darted to the other boy, who was the same age, but much darker in his coloring. He currently had possession of Dengar’s DLT-19 heavy blaster rifle, and with the butt against the ground it was nearly as tall as he was. A dark-haired girl, little more than a toddler, stood at his opposite side clutching the boy’s pant leg with her thumb in her mouth. She was the first one who noticed he was awake. She tugged on the boy’s pants to get his attention.

“Nobody has to kill anyone,” Dengar rasped when the boys looked his way. “I told you, I’m an old friend of your dad’s. He’s not going to like-”

“Shut up,” the darker boy said. He lifted the rifle into his arms with the ease of someone who had handled weapons before. “You’re scaring my sister.”

Dengar didn’t think the little girl looked scared at all. She looked like she wanted to spit him and roast him alive.

“Think about it,” the red-haired boy said. “He knows who we are. He knows where we live.”

“That is a problem,” the other boy agreed. Dengar couldn’t help squinting at him and trying to recall what Boba Fett looked as a young man, before his face all but vanished behind his helmet. The boy turned sharp, dark eyes on him. “If you came to see our dad, why didn’t you comm him first?”

Dengar rolled to his side. He was getting a crick in his neck. “He’s a hard man to get in touch with these days. Guess he’s got himself a sweet setup with the whole ‘Mandalore’ thing, huh? Ugh.” He grimaced at the pain in his head. “Look, how ‘bout I sit up?”

The boys exchanged glances. “Slowly,” the red-haired boy warned, folding his arms over his chest.

_Fierfek_. If these two weren’t raised by Boba Fett, Dengar would eat his boot. He struggled awkwardly into a sitting position, his head swimming a little as he looked around the small workshop. “Look, I got business with him. And hell, I wasn’t expecting a warm welcome, but you didn’t have to stab me.”

“You hit my brother,” the red-haired boy hissed. “You’re lucky I  _only_  stabbed you.”

“I barely cuffed ‘em!” Dengar protested. “Maybe your dad’s not the beatin’ kind, but when I was growing up, if someone came to my house and told me to fetch my old man, I hopped right to it!”

The way he saw it, a little suspicion was understandable, seeing that they were kids alone in a house with a stranger at their door. But then the red-haired boy stabbed him, and when Dengar lunged after him he took off through the house and out the back door.

He followed him out into the workshop, where he’d immediately lost his footing in a puddle of Gungan oil. He caught a glimpse of the dark-haired boy just before he was slammed in the back of the head with what felt like a stone slab. In hindsight, he could see the counterweights hanging from an old speeder lift, and he understood their trap. It was clever enough for kids, but the whole thing was so stupid and unnecessary. 

“Now, this is all a big screw-up,” he continued, as reasonably as he could. “But if you untie me now, I promise, I’m not gonna lay a hand on you.”

There was a long silence as the children looked at one another. The red-haired boy raised his eyebrows meaningfully, but his brother shook his head, his lips pressed together. 

“I don’t like him,” the little girl announced suddenly, removing her thumb from her mouth and looking up at her brother. “I don’t like the way he talks.” She turned her dark gaze back to Dengar. “I want him to  _go away_.”

“I’ll go away,” he lied swiftly. “I swear. Just untie me and give me my gun back-”

The door to the workshop opened, and everyone froze. Afternoon sunlight filtered in around a familiar silhouette.

“Fett!” Dengar sagged with relief. “For the love of creds, can you get these wild kids of yours-”

“I’ll ask the questions.” The bounty hunter moved further into shadows of the shop, and his helmet turned slightly towards the children. “ _Jate bora. Slanar._ ”

They filed out the door in silence. The dark-haired boy offered Dengar’s gun, but Fett gave curt jerk of his head. “ _Ganar bic jii_.” Dengar gritted his teeth as his gun vanished out the door with the children, but he knew better than to make an issue of it now. Once he’d explained everything to the bounty hunter, he’d get it back.

“Why are you here?”

“Can’t one bounty hunter go lookin’ for another? Maybe I’m sitting on the juiciest gig since Black Sun, but thanks to your surly attitude you don’t know nothing about it.”

Fett said nothing, but Dengar wasn’t surprised. That was just how conversations always went with him.

“Maybe you’re too big for us now, with all this.” He jerked his head at their surroundings and then winced at the stabbing pain in his head. “Nice place.”

“Dengar.” Fett folded his arms over his armored chest. “How long have you known me?”

“Since you were barely older than those boys, I reckon.”

“And you think,” the bounty hunter continued in a slow and measured way, “that I have a house in the mountains…and three children.”

Dengar blinked in confusion. “Folks say you married up. Some Mandalorian governor or something.”

“She’s a senator, and we have an  _arrangement_.” Fett shook his head. “You’re getting too old for this business.”

Heat crawled up the back of Dengar’s neck, thankfully hidden beneath his headwraps. “Aw,  _kriff_ you, Fett. Your ship docks in Keldabe like clockwork, and you’re the Mandalore. You have to have place somewhere around here. Besides, that one boy…he looks just like you!”

“You know who my father was. How many people do you think there are in this galaxy who look like me?”

“Well look…I found you, didn’t I?”

“I found  _you_.” Fett withdrew a vibroknife from his belt and snapped it on with a flick of his wrist. “And now I’m going to cut you free, and you’re going to start walking toward Keldabe.”

“Blast it, I came all this way with a job offer! Don’t you at least want to hear what it is?”

“No.”

The cords gave under the vibroknife, and suddenly Dengar’s arms and legs were free. “Damn it.  _Someone_ taught those kids how to bind up.”

“They’re Mandalorians.” Fett extended his hand to help him up, a move that surprised Dengar a little, but he appreciated it. “I’m doing you a favor by getting you out of here before their mother gets home. She would happily slice you in half and string you up for the carrion birds.”

“ _Fek_.” Dengar stretched the stiffness from his limbs. “Wait. Can I get my gun back?”

Fett paused halfway to the door. “I’ll talk to the boy. He might be willing to send it to Keldabe…for a price.”

* * *

**Mando’a Translations**

_Jate bora_  = Good job

_Slanar_  = Go

_Ganar bic jii_  = It’s yours now


	35. Birthday Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Birthday sex meant he could have anything he wanted (“Anything?” He’d asked, skeptical. “Anything,” she insisted. “Try me.”). It was an opportunity he always gave full consideration to. - There Was a Time, Chapter II

Boba didn’t like the word “anything.” It was one of those words people rarely meant in a literal sense. Whether it was said by a client bargaining, or a quarry pleading for their lives, “anything” was a slippery word.

Much like “love,” or “always.”

Leia was one of those rare people who usually meant what she said, so when his wife said “anything,” it caught his attention. They were eating a late dinner over the kitchen counter and she had just announced that they would be celebrating his “birthday” this year, in spite of the fact that he didn’t have one. According to Leia, this would involve dinner and cake and birthday sex.

“What do you mean by birthday sex?”

“Oh, you know, special occasion stuff.” She cut a few slices from a toydarian apple and put one in her mouth. “Maybe a special outfit, or something we don’t do often. Pretty much anything you want. It’s your birthday.”

“Anything?” He broke off two cubes from a protein stick and offered them to her.

“Anything.” She took one and popped it in her mouth. “Try me.”

She acted like there was nothing extraordinary about it. He watched her for a moment in silence while she opened a carton of crackers. “One of these days we have to start keeping real food around here.”

“This isn’t real?” He ate the other protein cube and reached for a cracker.

“It’s barely real. Someday Jonah will be awake for dinner and he should see people eating at a table once in a while so he knows what it’s for.”

Boba shrugged and bent over the sink to activate the water fountain. He drank, wiped his mouth and straightened. “So when you say anything…”

“I’d like to think I’m very open-minded, as long as it’s not dangerous or public.” She picked up another apple slice. “We’ve never really talked about fantasies, but I know a few things you like. So, if you want anal for example, or if you want me to wear something in particular, or if there’s a toy you want to try…I’m game.”

It was a very appealing offer. He could have sex in the shower, or a nice leisurely blow job, or Leia wearing that high-waisted thing that made her look a little pregnant, or any combination of those things, but that slippery word was still there, like an itch he had to scratch.

“What if I wanted you to wear something…unconventional,” he asked, folding his arms over his chest. “Like armor.”

Her eyebrows lifted and she gave him a playful little smile. “Mandalorian armor?”

“Trooper armor.”

Her smile froze just the tiniest bit. “What kind of-”

“Clonetrooper. Phase I. I wouldn’t ask you to wear Phase II. Too similar to stormtroopers.”

“Thank you?” She dropped her eyes down to the counter and cut off a few more slices of apple. “Won’t that make the sex part a little awkward?”

“You mentioned toys.”

“I did.” She put another apple slice in her mouth.

“I’ve seen this thing. About this long.” He held his hands out the approximate width of his shoulders. “Looks like small lightsaber but the end is glassine and it can go-” he mimed thrusting it up inside of someone.

Leia stared at him, wordless, her cheek bulging with half-chewed apple. His wife had an excellent sabacc face, but this was clearly testing her skills. He let her twist for another second or two before he reached past her, stole one of her apple slices and smiled deliberately at her before he put it in his mouth.

“Boba,” she protested around the food in her mouth. She chewed and swallowed hastily. “Are you  _kriffing_ with me right now? You ungrateful  _bastard_.” She put both hands on his chest and shoved him.

He caught her around the waist and pulled her tight against him. “You said “anything,’” he reminded her before he kissed her. He could taste the crisp sweetness of the apple on her lips and tongue. “I just wanted to see if you meant it.”

“I meant it.” Her fingers curled around the open collar of his shirt as she looked up at him reprovingly. “If you really wanted that…I would do it. I might also want you to have a psych eval, but I would do it.”

“Pass.” He dropped his hands down to her hips. “I want to think about it. Consider my options.”

“I would expect nothing else.” Leia’s hands flattened against his chest and then trailed down the front of his shirt to his belt. “That’s enough hypothetical sex. Are you ready to go to bed?”

His hands tightened on her. “You said something about wanting to use the table more.”


	36. Force Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PROMPT: For Leia to stumble across some glimpse of Boba and Sintas' brief marriage.

Leia’s having one of those strange, lucid moments, where she knows she’s in a dream. **  
**

She fell asleep nursing Jonah, curled up on her side on the bed with her son beside her. She was exhausted to begin with, and between the soft, contented suckling noises of her baby and Fett’s deep, even breathing on her other side, she drifted off.

And in this state of sem-consciousness, it’s easy to feel the force flowing through her and around her. She feels Jonah’s small but bright presence, and she slips between his thoughts as easily as a breeze.

Her sweet baby. He’s warm and he’s cozy by her side and he’s dreaming. In his mind he’s still nursing, and  Leia can feel his satisfaction and see the fleshy blob that is her son’s perception of her (Jonah is apparently not aware that she has two breasts). It may not be the most flattering image, but in the force his attachment is a glowing, tangible link between them.

She starts to drift again. Now she’s in a hallway she’s never seen before. There are voices. Angry voices. A man stumbles out into the hallway as if he was just pushed through a doorway and Leia is suddenly overwhelmed by the shame that surrounds him. He’s choking on it. Not outwardly. Outwardly his brows are lowered, and his mouth is twisted with anger. Inside, he’s drowning.

Two things are apparent to Leia at once. One, that’s her husband. And two, he’s young. Much younger than she ever knew him.

That’s when the third thing hits her. She accidentally drifted into Boba’s dream.

A woman storms out into the hall after him. Young, visibly pregnant, with fine black hair. There’s only one person she can be. Sintas Vel. His first wife. “Is this what you want, Bo? You want me to get  _angry_?”

“Why not?” He snarls in return. “Maybe you could try shrieking at Hegwinn until he pays up.”

She backhands him hard across the face, and the sound echoes through the empty hall. Leia can feel the sting of it, not the physical pain but the deeper, internal sting and the helpless rage that wells up inside of him.

Sintas is crying now, tears running freely down her tattooed cheeks as she pulls back her hand and hits him again. He has plenty of time to stop it, but he doesn’t. Her posture breaks, and she falls forward into his chest, sobbing. 

Boba’s arms stay at his sides, his hands curled into fists. Leia can feel how much he wants to shove Sintas away. How desperately he wants out. His face slowly smooths out into a cold mask.

“Don’t cry,” he says, and it’s a sneering insult.  

Sintas sniffles and swallows hard. “Sorry,” she says, through her teeth. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have hit you. I’m just so tired…I’ll…make it up to you.”

Leia’s not sure if this is a memory wrapped in a dream or a dream based on a memory. She knows what’s coming next, and wants to push away from it, but at the same, time she doesn’t want to leave him there. Whatever this is, this memory, this dream, it’s submerged in his despair.

She doesn’t know for sure if she can pull him out, but she has to try. 

_Boba…you must have happier memories…_

There’s a soft blanket spread out on the floor of a threadbare apartment, and a baby laying on her stomach. She can raise her head, her dark curls wobbling as she kicks her arms and legs. Her face is…indistinct. He doesn’t remember what she looked like.

Boba’s sitting on a nearby chair, his back straight, his eyes watching Sintas while she’s in a small kitchen area. There’s anticipation all around him, but it has nothing to do with the food being prepared. It doesn’t smell good. It won’t taste good either. She turns, and casts an anxious look into the sitting area. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine.” Boba leans forward a little. “She’ll be rolling over soon.”

“Really?” She comes a little closer. Something gray and runny is dripping off the spoon she’s carrying. “She’s too young for that, isn’t she?”

“She’s pushing up with her arms. And when you put her on her back, she twists to her side. Those are the signs.”

“Huh. I didn’t know that.” She gives him a quick grin. “She’s growing so fast.”

“Yes. She is.”

Leia can see how pleased he is by this simple exchange. She can also see the baby manual he read from start to finish.

_Of course you did…_

He’s so young, and trying so hard. She wishes she could put her arms around him and rub his back and tell him it’s okay to not know everything at seventeen.

And then everything shifts again, and the baby changes, and this time it’s Jonah, sleeping in his hammock aboard Slave I. The details are much sharper.

He stirs, nuzzling the cloth against his cheek, his face scrunching in a tell-tale way. His mouth opens, and single, unhappy cry comes out before his eyes open. He’s looking up at Boba now, and that same despair Leia felt in the hallway returns.

He’ll never get it right. He’ll never be able to-

_No. You can. You will._

His hand reaches out and grasps the hammock, rocking Jonah gently. Jonah’s eyes close, and Leia reflects that this alone is proof that this is a dream. She doesn’t allow that thought to surface, though, because she’s beginning to realize that she’s now directing the dream. She’s directing his consciousness.

It’s a strange, almost horrifying realization, but at the same time it makes her feel powerful. She can influence him, through his dreams. She can make Boba love their son.

This is a power she absolutely should not have.

She wakes up. She wakes herself up out of sheer force of will, cold sweat prickling on her skin. Her husband is still sleeping beside her, and she doesn’t dare move a muscle for fear of waking Jonah. She lays there a moment, her body drawn and tense, her mind racing.

She can’t do this again. She can’t risk it.


	37. Boba and Slick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hi! This is your friendly, neighborhood Anon here! I was thinking that Boba winds up meeting one or more of the Jango Fett clones (who doesn't matter, though I do have a soft spot for the jackass ones *cough* Slick *cough*) and either it goes well or it goes to hell. Your choice"

“You wanna buy me a drink?” The question was posed like a challenge, in a voice that was both familiar and unfamiliar to Leia. **  
**

“Excuse me?” She turned her head toward the man sitting two seats down from her at the bar. He had to be in his sixties, his close-cut hair was nearly snow white and deep lines surrounded sharp brown eyes.

“You stared at me long enough,” he said. “I thought maybe you wanted to buy me a drink.” He said it with a tinge of humor, but some wariness too.

“I’m sorry for staring,” Leia offered. “You…look like someone I know.”

He gave a sharp laugh. “I get that a lot.”

Leia motioned to the bartender. “Whatever he wants is on my tab, Litia.”

“Sure thing, Senator.”

“Senator?” The man stroked his chin thoughtfully. “You’re the rebel princess everyone is talking about.”

“Leia Organa.” She held out her hand.

“Slick,” he said as he took it.

She looked at her hand with alarm, and he shook his head.

“No. Slick, that’s me.”

“That’s…an interesting name.”

“I tried to change it. But everyone still calls me Slick.” He laughed again, but it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “Better than ‘Slick the Traitor,’ I guess.”

“Why do they call you that?”

“Why do they call you a rebel?”

Leia was about to answer when some movement at the door caught her eye. “Oh, Boba. Come over here. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

He was in street clothes with no helmet to hide behind. His eyes went back to the door, and for a split second she thought he was going to turn and walk out again. But he came. Slowly.

“This is Slick,” she said by way of introductions. “Slick, Boba Fett.”

The old clone drew himself up and looked Boba over from head to toe. “You’ve got to be  _karking_  kidding me. Boba Fett. Little Boba.”

“Yes. Ready to go?” Boba asked her.

“I remember when you used to roam the halls of Tipoca City looking for playmates. One my men, Gus, said he actually went to your apartment once to play spaceships. He missed his afternoon lesson and got his evening ration taken away.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“It was a bit hard to understand, especially for the young ones. You were just like us, but you were his son. Even after Jango died, you had your freedom.”

“That was freedom?” Boba inquired, his voice the approximate temperature of midnight on Hoth. “It felt more like hunger.”

Slick bared his teeth in an unfriendly smile. “Take it from me, hunger beats prison.”

“I agree.”

They looked so much alike, a perfect older-younger mirror of each other as they faced off. Leia cleared her throat and touched Boba’s arm. His muscles were rigid beneath his shirt. “Slick, it was nice to meet you.”

“My pleasure, Senator.” He narrowed his eyes a little at Boba. “Bob’ika.”

“ _Slick_.” The bounty hunter managed to pronounce the word with as much distaste as possible. He turned away, and Leia followed him to the door.

“Thanks for meeting me here,” she said as they stepped out onto the street. “My new place isn’t far from here, but I didn’t want to transmit the location-”

“Don’t do that again.” He turned abruptly to face her, his jaw tight.

“Don’t…?”

“The clones. I don’t want to talk to them.”

“What? Why?”

He looked around, and then pulled her towards the mouth of a nearby alley. “What do you want me to do?” When she gave him a blank stare, he continued. “I’ll do  _anything you want_  if you promise me that you’ll never do that again.”

“My gods, you don’t have to  _bribe_  me. I don’t know why-” It hit her then. She thought of the clones as looking like Boba, but he didn’t. To him they looked like Jango Fett. She tried to imagine what it would feel like to see Bail Organa’s face on a complete stranger, and she shuddered.

“Hey.” She clutched at Boba’s sleeve. “I’m sorry. I promise I will never do that again.”

He looked at her hand and then at her face. Then he took a breath and nodded.


	38. Leia's armor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Has Leia ever considered getting her own set of Mando armour made, or has Boba ever thought of getting some gear made for her? She might not be a professional merc or bounty hunter or Protector etc. but she might feel more Mando (which is a state of mind I know, but armour helps) and he'd probably feel that she was safer wearing the stuff plus a course on the armour/weaponry. But your thoughts?"

Her last week on Coruscant was tough. Saying goodbye to her staff, cleaning out her office. One term as Chancellor was the deal she’d made, and the promise she’d kept, but that didn’t stop the “what if”s and the “what now”s from swirling around in her head. 

When the speeder stopped in front of the house, Boba turned to her. “The kids have a surprise for you. It wasn’t my idea.”

“Oh?”

He said nothing else. The door opened to shouts and applause. It seemed a small party had been planned in her honor, which included Luke and his husband Dyrk. 

“Welcome home, mom.” Jonah approached her with a broad grin and proffered a small bundle wrapped in red cloth. “Got you something.”

“That’s so thoughtful.” She cupped her son’s face and accepted the gift. It was hard and knobby, and once she removed the cloth she saw a pair of armored shin guards. white, with a thin red stripe. “Well. This is…”

“I got you something too,” Kyd moved in, his own red-wrapped bundle in his hands. It was a sleek black belt with a blue  _kama_  hanging from it. And then Shysa pressed the next gift into her hands, a set of white chestplates. 

Dyrk gave her armored gauntlets, one white and one green. Luke presented her with a pair of blue shoulder-guards. One of them bore the crest of Alderaan in white, and her vision suddenly blurred with tears. 

Her brother hugged her and then turned her around to face her husband, who was holding a white helmet with twin stripes of blue and black running up one side. “It’s past time,” he said gruffly. “If I can wear it, you can wear it.”

A laugh broke in her throat as she took the helmet. “Thank you.” She swiped at her eyes and turned it in her hands. “So…on a scale from one to ten, how illegal is the tech in this?”

Boba looked over at Dyrk. “Seven?”

“Seven…ish,” Dyrk replied evasively. “But you don’t need to worry about that now, do you?”

“I guess I don’t.” She looked down at the helmet, and the armor.  _Her_  armor. “Gods, this is…it’s…just so good to be home.”


	39. Fett being smooth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Leia, watching Fett being smooth; maybe pretending to be a pilot like he did when they first met. She can tell he's lying because he looks like he's enjoying himself."

“Please join us, Senator.” 

Leia ducked into the mobile surveillance unit and nodded to the Twi’lek commander. “Thank you for letting me ride along, Captain Auggy. I’m grateful for the opportunity to see the new technology in the field.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he replied with a grin. “I’ve been told you were instrumental in getting the funding, so I have to be very nice to you.” 

“There was a lot of skepticism in the Senate,” she acknowledged as she sat in the proffered chair. “But when I asked my husband about it he said we would have to be, and I quote, complete idiots not to adopt it, and he stays on top of these things better than I do.” In front of her was a bright holographic display in the form of a map. “Who are we tailing?”

“Lady Con’tizza, a Abdulian noblewoman. She’s been passing along gossip and dinner conversations to the Imperial resurgence for several months now. She hasn’t heard anything classified yet, so right now we’re just watching her, hoping to learn more about her circle and her contacts.” The captain entered a few commands and a bright orb lit up on the map. “Luckily she’s easy to find. Same club every weekend.”

Leia leaned closer and the map turned into a recorder’s feed. Lady Con’tizza was a tall, slender woman in her late forties, engaged in animated conversation with a man at the bar. The man had dark hair and broad shoulders and if it wasn’t for his well-to-do attire, she could almost mistake him for-

“Boba?”

“Senator?”

“The man she’s talking to…” She gestured. 

“Oh, right. They look cozy, don’t they? Do you recognize him?”

“That’s my husband.”

“Oh  _kriff_. I mean- Excuse my language, Senator.” He stared at her, his eyes wide. “Are you sure?”

“Oh yes.” She looked down at the panel. “There’s audio receptors, right?”

“But-”

“I’d like to see the full range of the equipment’s capabilities,” she said in a tone that allowed no argument. The captain swallowed visibly and pushed the button just in time to catch what Boba was saying.

“People call me old fashioned, and I know that Mid Rim production is improving…but if I’m going to drink red wine then I’m going to drink an Alderaani Summit or I’m going to drink water.”

Lady Con’tizza laughed as if this was the most delightful thing she’d ever heard. “I adore a Summit red, but they’ve become so hard to find. The greatest crime of the Empire if you ask me!” She gave another lilting laugh, and Leia’s hands balled into fists. But she wasn’t looking at the noblewoman, she was watching her husband’s face.

He bared his teeth in a smile. A hunter’s smile. 

“I have some connections,” he said, shifting closer to Lady Con’tizza and lowering his voice. “Maybe not strictly legal ones, but I can get you Summit reds. City whites. Aged stone wines. Anything you want.”

She lowered her chin and pursed her lips playfully. “We’ve just met. And here you are offering me anything I want.”

“I like you.” He put his hand over hers where it rested on the bar. His thumb stoked up the back of her hand and her lips parted as their eyes met. 

Leia made a small sound of disgust, and Auggy shifted nervously in his seat. 

“Actually this is good for us,” she told him. “It means there’s someone in her circle with a price on their head. A smuggler, maybe. Or a wine connoisseur. Someone you can offer a deal to.”

“I’ll look into it.” His eyes shifted back to the feed. “And your husband…?”

“I guess we can’t have him throwing a hydrospanner into our operation, can we? Damn it.” She sighed as she pulled her commlink out.

Auggy watched her in befuddled silence as she entered her message. He jumped a little when Boba’s commlink buzzed on the feed. 

“My apologies,” he said to Lady Con’tizza. “Business.” He withdrew his hand from hers and glanced down at the message. Immediately his jaw tightened and his gaze lifted just long enough to do a quick sweep of the club. 

The Twi’lek captain cleared his throat. “What did it say?”

“Nothing that would compromise us.” It was his operation, so as a courtesy, Leia turned on her display and showed him the words. 

_Don’t change when you get home. I like that look._

“Bad news?” Lady Con’tizza questioned, giving Boba a heated look over the rim of her wine glass. 

Leia knew her husband was not going to be pleased, and he could easily spook their target by saying the wrong thing. She quickly sent another message.

_Sorry_.

“It’s my wife,” he said to Lady Con’tizza. Her flirtatious expression froze. “Gotta go.” He walked away from the bar, entering a reply into his commlink as he did. 

_You owe me_.

Leia turned off her commlink’s display and turned her attention back to Auggy, who smiled a little awkwardly. 

“I heard he was bounty hunter.”

“He’s a very good one.” Leia nodded at the holographic feed. “And he probably has information on her that you don’t, but you won’t get it for free. I can talk to him, if you want me to. Maybe there’s a way for everyone to get what they want out of this.”


	40. Memories of Obi-Wan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "so i just remembered that boba knew young obi, luke knew ben, and leia knew her dad’s old friend master kenobi (maybe). could you maybe write a little bit about that? bc im sure the three of them all have very different interpretations of the late great obi wan ben kenobi, and it would be interesting to explore"

“Have you talked about names yet?”

“Not really.” Leia rose from her seat and Luke noticed how she gripped the back of the chair. Her pregnancy was just beginning to show, but clearly her balance was affected. “Boys. Take your plates to the washer.”

“I think we should name him ‘Tor,’ Jonah offered as he gathered up his plate.

“Did you eat  _any_  vegetables?” Fett questioned as his son passed his chair. 

“I ate my eggs.”

“That’s not a vegetable. Kyd?”

Kyd tipped his empty plate towards his dad. 

“You know the rules,” Leia reminded Jonah. “No vegetables, no dessert.”

“That’s okay.” Jonah set his plate on the counter. “May I be excused?”

“Fine.” Leia took out a box of sugar wafers and gave one to Kyd. Luke watched as his nephew carried it into the kitchen and with a quick glance at his mother’s back, broke it in half and slipped half to his brother. When they caught him looking both boys took off.

“How did you choose Jonah’s name?” He asked as Leia returned to the table with the wafers. 

“Oh, there’s an old Mandalorian tradition of fathers naming sons and mothers naming daughters. I told Boba he could pick a name, but he never gave me any suggestions.” She took a wafer from the box and bit into it. “And then the day Jonah was born he turned to me and said ‘what about Jonah?’ and I loved it. It’s a kind of tree native to Mandalore. Very strong and hardy.”

“Very rough bark,” Fett added. “Or so I’ve been told.”

Leia gave him a warning look and passed the box of wafers to Luke. “Here. These are really good.”

“What about ‘Ben?’“

“Ben?” Leia pronounced it slowly, testing it. “Ben Fett. Ben Organa. It works with either name. That’s not-”

“Over my dead body.” Fett’s voice was cold and abrupt.

“It’s a good name,” Luke insisted, not backing down from his brother-in-law’s glare. “It belonged to a good man.”

Leia was clearly confused. “Who?”

“Kenobi,” her husband told her. He said it like a curse. 

“General Kenobi? Obi-Wan Kenobi? Oh. That’s right.” Her expression turned sober as she looked at Luke. “You called him Ben.”

“I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately,” Luke admitted. “He’s just…a big part of all this, you know? Becoming a Jedi. Finding my family. He changed my life.”

“I know.” His sister put her hand over his. “My father always talked about him like he was this mythic figure. The great General Kenobi.”

Luke looked at Fett, who folded his arms over his chest and said nothing. It still amazed him, all the ways their family histories were both intertwined and in opposition. And as remarkable and unlikely as it was, they were family now. 

“It’s a good name,” Leia continued in a diplomatic tone. “We’ll consider it, along with Fenn Shysa Jr. and what was Jonah’s suggestion? Bor?”

“Tor.” Fett shook his head. “He’s been reading those Mando archives on the ‘net again.”

“And why won’t he eat his vegetables now? Kyd doesn’t seem to mind them.”

“Kyd’s not eating them either. He’s putting them on Jonah’s plate.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Oh.” Luke sat up in realization. “That’s why Kyd gave him half of his wafer. They each get half-dessert and no one has to eat vegetables.”

Leia looked at them with an expression of exasperation. “Why didn’t either of you say something?”

“I thought it was kind of funny,” Fett offered with a shrug.

“They looked so pleased with themselves.” Luke gave his sister an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

“Oh, for the Force’s sake.” She rested her chin on her palm and looked at Fett. “They’re already outwitting us. What’s going to happen when we’re outnumbered?”


End file.
